Poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton / [by Louise Chandler Moulton] [electronic text]

MY QUEEN OF MAY.

THE laughing garlanded May-time is here; The glad laburnum whispers at the gate: "She comes! She comes! I hear her step draw near, My Queen of Beauty, Arbitress of Fate!"

The lilacs look at her—"She is more fair Than the white moon, more proud than the strong sun; Let him who seeks her royal grace beware, To be unworthy were to be undone."

One wild sweet rose, that dreams the May is June, Blooms for her; and for her a mateless bird Thrills the soft dusk with his entrancing tune, Content if by her only he is heard.

A curious star climbs the far heaven to see What She it is for whom the waiting night, To music set, trembles in melody; Then, by her beauty dazzled, flees from sight.

And I—what am I that my voice should reach The gracious ear to which it would aspire? She will not heed my faltering poor speech; I have no spell to win what all desire.

Yet will I serve my stately Queen of May; Yet will I hope, till Hope itself be spent. Better to strive, though steep and long the way, Than on some weaker heart to sink content.