A Road Song in May
O come! Is it not surely May?
The year is at its poise today.
Northward, I hear the distant beat
Of Spring’s irrevocable feet;
Tomorrow June will have her way.
O tawny waters, flecked with sun,
Come; for your labors all are done.
The gray snow fadeth from the hills;
And toward the sound of waking mills
Swing the brown rafts in, one by one.
O bees among the willow-blooms,
Forget your empty waxen rooms
Awhile, and share our golden hours!
Will they not come, the later flowers,
With their old colors and perfumes?
O wind that bloweth from the west,
Is not this morning road the best?
— Let us go hand in hand, as free
And glad as little children be
That follow some long-dreamed-of quest!
~~
Francis Sherman (1871-1926)
From A Canadian Calendar: XII lyrics, 1900
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
Francis Sherman biography
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