May

J W Goethe

MAY

LIGHT and silv'ry cloudlets hover 

In the air, as yet scarce warm;

Mild, with glimmer soft tinged over, 

Peeps the sun through fragrant balm.

Gently rolls and heaves the ocean 

As its waves the bank o'erflow.

And with ever restless motion 

Moves the verdure to and fro, 

Mirror'd brightly far below. 

What is now the foliage moving? 

Air is still, and hush'd the breeze,

Sultriness, this fullness loving, 

Through the thicket, from the trees.

Now the eye at once gleams brightly, 

See! the infant band with mirth

Moves and dances nimbly, lightly, 

As the morning gave it birth, 

Flutt'ring two and two o'er earth. 

1816.

TO THE RISING FULL MOON

Dornburg, 25th August, 1828. 

WILT thou suddenly enshroud thee, 

Who this moment wert so nigh?

Heavy rising masses cloud thee, 

Thou art hidden from mine eye. 

Yet my sadness thou well knowest, 

Gleaming sweetly as a star!

That I'm loved, 'tis thou that showest, 

Though my loved one may be far. 

Upward mount then! clearer, milder, 

Robed in splendour far more bright!

Though my heart with grief throbs wilder, 

Fraught with rapture is the night! 

1828.