This is the laughing-eyed amongst them all: <br />My lady's month. A season of young things. <br />She rules the light with harmony, and brings <br />The year's first green upon the beeches tall. <br />How often, where long creepers wind and fall <br />Through the deep woods in noonday wanderings, <br />I’ve heard the month, when she to echo sings, <br />I've heard the month make merry madrigal. <br /> <br />How often, bosomed in the breathing strong <br />Of mosses and young flowerets, have I lain <br />And watched the clouds, and caught the sheltered song - <br />Which it were more than life to hear again - <br />Of those small birds that pipe it all day long <br />Not far from Marly by the memoried Seine.<br /><br />Hilaire Belloc<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/month-of-may-2/