Miss May

“ It is to May and June what “sweet fifteen,” in the age of woman, is to the passion-stricken eighteen, and perfect two-and-twenty. It is to the confirmed Summer, what the previous hope of joy is to the full fruition—what the boyish dream of love is to love itself. It is, indeed, the month of promises—and what are twenty performances compared with one promise? April, then, is worth two Mays, because it tells tales of May in every sigh that it breathes, and every tear that it lets fall. ”

“ The flowers that's a blooming will instant decay,
Since Jeany's no longer the Queen of the May.
Believe me dear madam, your shepherd you wrong,
Your name is for ever the theme of my song,
From the dew of pale eve to the dawn of the day,
I'll sing but of Jeany my Queen of the May.
Come all you young lovers, I pray you draw near,
Avoid all suspicions whate'er doth appear,
O trust not your eyes, lest your peace they betray,
So come my dear Jockey and hail the new May. ”

“ Till once, ’twas on the morn of cheerful May,
The young Emilia, fairer to be seen
Than the fair lily on the flowery green—
More fresh than May herself in blossoms new—
For with the rosy color strove her hue—
Waked, as her custom was, before the day,
To do th’ observance due to sprightly May:
For sprightly May commands our youth to keep
The vigils of her nights, and breaks their sluggard sleep.
Each gentle breath with kindly warmth she moves;
Inspires new flames, revives extinguished loves. ”

“ A soft May moon steals above the eastern horizon, and gilds with radiant luster the brow of night. Gentle May zephyrs from their airy home glide over the earth, kissing the lips of the rose, and the tender cheek of the hedge-row violet. Young and tender May leaves whisper to each other tales of love, away, away, in the dark old forests. ”

“ Heavenly thou art, nor less should be-- O lovely May! O long'd-for May! The favour'd forms that wait on thee. The moss to guard thy feet is spread, The wreaths are woven for thy head, The rosy curtains of thy bed Become transparent in the blaze Of the strong sun's resistless gaze: Then lady, make no more delay, The world still lives, though spring be dead-- O lovely May! O long'd-for May! And thou must rule and reign instead. The lady from her bed arose, Her bed the leaves the moss-bud blows Herself a lily in that rose ”

“ When May was young; ah, pleasant May!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last eggs had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird forgone its mate.
I cannot tell you what it was;
But this I know: it did but pass. 10
It passed away with sunny May,
With all sweet things it passed away,
And left me old, and cold, and grey.
A PAUSE OF THOUGHT I looked for that which is not, nor can be,
And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth:
But years must pass before a hope of youth
Is resigned utterly. ”

“ Here and there she goes through brambly ways, where amorous arms from blackberry bushes strive to catch and hold her, and where star-eyed daisies and buttercups and delicate faint-hearted primroses peep out to laugh at her discomfiture.
But she escapes from all their snares and goes on her way, her heart so full of troublous fancies that their many wiles gain from her not so much as one passing thought.
The pretty, lovely May is just bursting into bloom; its pink blossoms here and its white blossoms there mingle gloriously, and the perfume of it fills the silent air. ”

“ It was May; bright, sunny, perfumed May. The hawthorn hedges on the ridge of the croft were white with scented blossoms, and the Irk—not the muddled stream which improvement (?) is fast shutting out of remembrance—went on its dimpled way, smiling at the promise of the season. The echoes of the May-day milkcart bells, and the flutter of their decorative ribbons, were dying out of all but infantile remembrance;—the month was more than a fortnight old.
It was 1802, and Jabez was almost three years old. ”

“ Now that thou art come again, We perchance may make thee stay. Welcome, May! welcome, May! Everything kept holiday Save the human heart alone. Mirthful May! gladsome May! We had cares and thou hadst none When thou camest last this way! When thou camest last this way Blossoms bloomed on every spray, Buds on barren boughs were born-- Fertile May! fruitful May! Like the rose upon the thorn Cannot grief awhile be gay? 'Tis not for the golden ray, Or the flowers that strew thy way, O immortal One! thou art Here to-day, gentle May-- 'Tis to man's ungrateful heart That thy fairy footsteps stray. ”

“ They bounded by the happy Queen of May!
Though years have past, and time has strewn
My raven locks with flakes of gray,
Fond memory brings the hours
Of birds and blossom-showers,
When in girlhood I was crowned the Queen of May! ”

“ We pull our wrappings about us and go home. April past, we then fancy that her older sister, May, beautiful in literary imagery—for do we not recall descriptive visions of May days of long ago, when the human blossoms danced about the May pole, lolled luxuriantly in the soft, tender grass, hid themselves in the deep-leaved trees, and at last gratified our imaginations with the belief that she is altogether perfect? ”

“ May is lilac here in New England, May is a thrush singing "Sun up!" on a tip-top ash-tree, May is white clouds behind pine-trees Puffed out and marching upon a blue sky. May is a green as no other, May is much sun through small leaves, May is soft earth, And apple-blossoms, And windows open to a South wind. ”

“ May is here, the air is full of the greenness of leaves and the songs of birds, the lank rose trees are budding on the Gothic walls, and when I breathe the fragrant air and look about me I rub my eyes, and wonder whether May was ever so beautiful at home. ”

“ The perfect work of May is done: Hard by a new perfection waits:— The twain, a sister and a nun, A moment parley at the grates. The whiter Spirit turns in peace To hide her in the cloistral shade:— 'Tis time that you should also cease, Slight carols in her honour made. ”

“ I was determined to see you first before I said a word to one of them—for, May, it was not for fear of my uncle’s anger that I wished our marriage to be a secret one—but there was another reason—”
“Another reason?” echoed May, with fast whitening lips.
“Yes, when I was a boy, a mere lad at least, I met a woman older than myself; a woman who took advantage of my boyish infatuation, and led me on to do what I have cursed ever since I met you. May, do not look so white! My dear one, this need not, shall not, part us. Our love is too deep and strong for a tie, broken years ago, to come between us. ”

“ A pretty child, with hair like sunshine, eyes blue as the sky, cheeks like the wild roses nodding to her on either side of the way, and a voice as sweet as the babbling brook she loved to sing with. May was never happier than when alone in the woods; and every morning, with her cup, and a little roll of bread in her basket, she wandered away to some of her favorite nooks, to feast on berries, play with the flowers, talk to the birds, and make friends with all the harmless wood-creatures who soon knew and welcomed her. ”

“ Come here, little May, and bid papa good-by."
"Let papa come to May," responded his daughter, still rocking. "I can't get off."
Captain Everard laughed; went over, bent down and kissed her.
"Good-by, May; don't forget papa, and learn to be a good girl. Good-by, baronet; try and grow strong and tall. Farewell, Lady Thetford, with my best thanks." ”

“ Past rocks of terraced trumpet vines,
Shall I behold her coming slow,
Sweet May, among the columbines?
With redbud cheeks and bluet eyes,
Big eyes, the homes of happiness,
To meet me with the old surprise,
Her wild-rose hair all bonnetless.
Who waits for me, where, note for note,
The birds make glad the forest trees?—
A dogwood blossom at her throat,
My May among th' anemones.
As sweetheart breezes kiss the blooms,
And dews caress the moon's pale beams,
My soul shall drink her lips' perfumes,
And know the magic of her dreams.
O MAYTIME WOODS! ”

“ This wedlock was more serious than most affairs of Merry Mount, where jest and delusion, trick and fantasy, kept up a continual carnival. The Lord and Lady of the May, though their titles must be laid down at sunset, were really and truly to be partners for the dance of life, beginning the measure that same bright eve. The wreath of roses that hung from the lowest green bough of the Maypole had been twined for them, and would be thrown over both their heads in symbol of their flowery union. ”

“ I have loved Rose May all my life—I must marry her; the maiden in the village can find another bridegroom.”
“Thou art not worthy to wed one like Rose May, but there is one worthy of her whom thou hast triumphed over many a time, and even this very night, because thou hast been more successful than he—beware, thou may’st go too far.”
“Too far! She will be mine to-morrow—what power in heaven or earth can separate us? She is mine—mine—mine!”
“Thou mayest deceive thyself. I ask thee, wilt thou not give up Rose May and betake thee to the pale and sorrowing maid who has awaited thy coming so long?” ”

“ Weymore, the governess, pale and pretty, and subdued as of old. They raced through the leafy arcades of the park, and gamboled in the garden, and had tea in a fairy summer house, to the music of plashing fountains—and little May was captain of the band. Even shy, still Aileen Jocyln forgot her youthful dignity, and raced and laughed with the best.
"It was so nice, papa!" she cried rapturously, riding home in the misty moonlight. "I never enjoyed myself so well. I like Rupert so much—better than May, you know; May's so rude and laughs so loud. ”

“ Of all the queens of May?
Must I alone
My once my own,
In my retreat
The new year greet,
And winter meet,
And winds hear moan?
Not yet
Can I
Forget;
But why
One clings
And sings
To things
That die? ”

“ To say the truth, they last longer with us than with the children, and perhaps we combine the delicate hues of spring, and lighten our nosegays by grass and sword-flags and rushes with more cunning fingers than those of the little ones who gathered them.
For these is reserved the real bloom of May-day! And the orthodox customs are so various, that families of any size or age may pick and choose. One brother and sister can be Lord and Lady of the May. One sister among many brothers must be May Queen without opposition. ”

“ And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass;
There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day;
And I'm to be Queen o'the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o'the May.
All the valley, mother, 'll be fresh and green and still,
And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill,
And the rivulet in the flowery dale'll merrily glance and play,
For I'm to be Queen o'the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o'the May.
So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear;
To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad new-year ”

“ They hold faithfully together during the ever more silent, ever more shadowy autumn days; his warming breast is close to hers through frozen winter nights; and if they both live to see another May she is still all the world to him, and woe to any brilliant vagabond who should warble a wanton love-song under her holy windows. ”

“ In the business of the meetings, which was manifold and sometimes not without difficulties, her advice and influence were most important, and the "lady in plain clothes" showed herself as she was, a great gentlewoman. As such and as a most loyal and sympathetic friend, faithful and affectionate in all personal relations, she is remembered and mourned by those who had the happiness of being her fellow-workers.
Miss May's death occurred in Boston on the 30th of November, 1888, before the completion of her fifty-ninth year. ”

“ Two of the most interesting of these flower-formed acquaintances, were my little friends Harry and Bessy Leigh.
Every year I go to the Everley woods to gather wild lilies of the valley. It is one of the delights that May—the charming, ay, and the merry month of May, which I love as fondly as ever that bright and joyous season was loved by our older poets—regularly brings in her train; one of those rational pleasures in which (and it is the great point of superiority over pleasures that are artificial and worldly) there is no disappointment. ”

“ And who are those beside you, glorious and fair?" murmured the old woman, suddenly stretching out both arms towards the door, and looking earnestly beyond May at something unseen.
"Queen of Heaven! how is it that you come to me? I am not worthy to lift my eyes to yours, yet you are here," she continued, while an awe, unspeakable and sweet, fell on May, who did not move.
"To deliver my soul, and conduct me to the feet of your Divine Son?" she said, after a short pause, as if some one had answered her, and she repeated the words.
"Oh grace! oh splendor! oh sweetness! oh clemency! oh hope!" ”

“ Miss May did not press her point further, but said she would take the time to answer her own letters, if I did not need her.
For the next hour I pushed my pen over the stationery, replying to the missives I had received, and also sending brief notes to several of my other friends. When this was finished I went to Miss May's door to speak to her, and found her absent. Looking over the veranda railing I saw her at some [Pg 190] distance, frolicking with Laps, the dog, apparently having recovered her spirits, which were rather low when I left her. ”