
Fine Weather in May. 
Leigh Hunt. 
D EADER! what soul that loves a verse can see 
’ The Spring return, nor glow like you and me? 
Hear the rich birds, and see the landscape fill, 
Nor long to utter his harmonious will? 
This, more than ever, leaps into the veins, 
When Spring has been delayed by winds and rains, 
And, coming like a burst, comes with a show 
Blue all above, and basking green below, 
And all the people culling the sweet prime: 
Then issues forth the hee, to clutch the thyme, 
And the bee-poet rushes into rhyme. 
For lo! no sooner have the chills withdrawn, 
Than the bright elm is tufted on the lawn; 
The merry sap has run up in the bowers, 
And burst the windows of the buds in flowers ; 
With song the bosoms of the birds run o’er; 
The cuckoo calls; the swallow’s at the door ; 
