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May and the Poets by Leigh Hunt

May and the Poets

by Leigh Hunt


There is May in books forever;

May will part from Spenser never;

May's in Milton, May's in Prior,

May's in Chaucer, Thomson, Dyer;

May's in all the Italian books:—

She has old and modern nooks,

Where she sleeps with nymphs and elves,

In happy places they call shelves,

And will rise and dress your rooms

With a drapery thick with blooms.

Come, ye rains, then if ye will,

May's at home, and with me still;

But come rather, thou, good weather,

And find us in the fields together.



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