By Helen Whitney Clark
Excerpted from Good Housekeeping, May, 1889
The sky is all dappled with azure and white,
The woodlands are dotted with posies,
The blue-headed larkspur looks smiling and bright,
And the butterfly flirts with the roses.
And jack-in-the-pulpit is nodding his head,
While the honey bees cheerily hum;
The oriole swings in his snug hammock bed,
And the robin sings May-day has come!
The hawthorne are dropping their petals around,
The humble-bee sighs for his clover,
The shy little cowslip in byways is found,
And the king-cups are sprinkled all over.
The dove softly coos in the shade of the wold,
The woodcock is beating his drum,
The moccasin-flower dons her slippers of gold,
And the cuckoo sings May-day has come!
The swallows have flown to the chimneys tall,
The thrush to his tryst is winging,
The eglantine over the old stone wall
Her censers of incense is swinging;
And down in the meadow, amid the green grass,
The crickets so lazily hum;
The daisies nod this way and that as you pass,
And the south-wind says May-day has come!
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Tales of Chetzemoka
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