MAY 



THE MOON OF FLOWERS 



T F the five letters that spell out the delights 

 of April are enchanted, what of the three 

 that guard the secrets and publish the joys of 

 the time when "the year has piloted us once 

 more into the flowery harbour of May " ? 



There is now no longer any need to wonder 

 if that be a rising mist which veils the maples, 



" Blown silver by the winds," 



for the flowering of the trees themselves stand 

 confessed, and before this certainty has been 

 fairly grasped, the rose-pink vapour which has 

 trembled over the oaks has been condensed into 

 the velvet foliage which tells the farmer that 

 corn planting time has come. A solemn holy- 

 day if men would but look at it rightly, when 

 the 



" Son of six thousand golden sires " 



is dropped trustfully into the dark bosom of 

 the great Mother, who takes us all seed and 

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