Selected Poetry.

Western Star, Issue 1387, 7 September 1889, Page 2 (Supplement)

Selected Poetry.

A MAY SONG. Through the Ash Grove I saunter gaily, The birds sing loud with a mad delight, For the glory of Summer is gilding daily The hills, and the woods, and the streams so bright. I list to the note of the cuckoo calling; I watch the lark as he soars on high ; He thrills with rapture, his sweet notes falling In a delirious ecstasy. For the Winter winds are past and over, The Spring and the Summer are meeting now; The scent of the hay, and the rich red clover, They will be with us soon I trow. In verdant meadows the lambs are playing, The goats with their kids are browsing near; The larch and the willow are eachdisplaying Their feathery sprays of green to cheer. The lime and the sycamore buds are bursting, Toe chesnut plumes are bending low To the western wind; the ground is thirsting For fruitful showers, with the sky aglow. The cuckoo-storm with its lightning flashes Has passed away, and the long days come; ’Midst the mountain glooms the thunder crashes Are now forgotten in calms of homo. Our gardens fair are decked with flowers, Daffodil, primula, blooming gay ; Little they heed the passing hours ; Everything tells us now ’tis May. The white stellaria in the hedges. The primrose, violet, pansy wild ; The brave marsh marigold in the sedges Come to delight us, man and child. Harsh is the voice of the corn-crake croaking, Pleasant the chatter as jack-daws build, Even the solemn old rooks are joking ; Everywhere Nature with joy is filled. Ann Tale, Newry, Ireland.