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    The Mist Maiden   Table of Contents     The Poet's Ideal

Ray, H. Cordelia

- May's Invocation -- After a Tardy Spring

May's Invocation
After a Tardy Spring

With her buskins tipped with dew,
Came a fair, enchanting fay,
Tiptoeing the forest through;
Who was it but smiling May?

Wide she waved her sylph-like arms,
As with Dian's grace she ran,
Laden with a thousand charms.
Then to urge her plea began:

Lilies, lilies! come, wake up!
Ring your dainty, perfumed bells.
Hasten! yellow buttercup!
Rouse! throw off Dame Winter's spells.

Sweet-faced pansies, wake from dreams!
Raise your melancholy eyes.
They are veiled too long, it seems;
'Tis no time for reveries.

Come shy violets, and ye,
Bonnie daisies! why so late?
Look! the sunbeams kiss the lea,
Do not longer drowse and wait!

Ay! the Sunshine is my knight
Who has lavished all his gold
For you laggards. What a plight
That ye grasp not wealth untold!

Now she stayed her speech to shed
Fom her curved horn nectar rare,
On each willing, waiting head;
Then resumed her wistful prayer.

Swallows, robins, orioles!
Tender thrush of liquid lay,
Why not here? the breeze-harp rolls
Far, inspiring tones to-day.

Bobolink, O tarry not!
See! the twigs are edged with green;
In the meadow there's a spot
Dear unto thy heart, I ween.

Doves from out your downy nest,
Coo, O coo a matin soft;
Just a hint of life's unrest
Echoes through your music oft.

Lark! I languish for thy note;
Where in hiding may'st thou be?
With thy silver-cadenced throat
Lead the Springtime's minstrelsy.

Flow'rets, flow'rets, warblers, haste!
April came with languid call;
Not a moment can ye waste!
Wake ye! wake ye! wake ye all!

    The Mist Maiden   Table of Contents     The Poet's Ideal