MAY MORNING.

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire: Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee and wish thee long.

MILTON.

OST glorious art thou! when from thy pavilion
Thou lookest forth at morning; flinging wide
Its curtain clouds of purple and vermilion,
Dispensing life and light on every side;
Brightening the mountain cataract, dimly spied
Through glittering mist; opening each dew-gemm'd

flower,

Or touching, in some hamlet, far descried,

Its spiral wreaths of smoke that upward tower,

While birds their matin sing from many a leafy bower.