MAY 119 



Joyous indeed are the interludes May plays between the hours 

 of dusk and dawn. Passing at morn by the hawthorn hedges 

 we may hear many a shrill chorus of hungry bird-children, 

 and, on peeping between the white blossoms, espy a cluster 

 of little golden throats. 



Month of May ! O time of love and perfect joy ; blest 

 season of our lives, when we are supremely happy; when 

 Time's sea is rippling calmly beneath a sky which almost 

 dazzles us with its peerless blue, or, reflecting the rosy tints 

 of sunset, predicts a fair to-morrow. The first bright star 

 appears, but ere it has risen, ere the mellow dusk has 

 ripened into golden eventide, May's interludes are hushed, 

 to begin afresh when the first ray of light in the eastern sky 

 wakes from sleep another dawn. 



