Cowslip. _Primula Veris._
Dedicated to _St. Catharine_ of Sienna.
[Illustration: MAY.]
Then came faire MAY, the fayrest mayd on ground,
Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde,
And throwing flow’res out of her lap around:
Upon two brethren’s shoulders she did ride,
The twinnes of Leda; which on either side
Supported her, like to their soveraine Queene.
Lord! how all creatures laught, when her they spide,
And leapt and daunc’t as they had ravisht beene!
And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.
_Spenser._
So hath “divinest Spenser” represented the fifth month of the year, in
the grand pageant which, to all who have seen it, is still present; for
neither the laureate’s office nor the poet’s art hath devised a
spectacle more gorgeous. Castor and Pollux, “the twinnes of Leda,” who
appeared to sailors in storms with lambent fires on their heads,
mythologists have constellated in the firmament, and made still
propitious to the mariner. Maia, the brightest of the Pleiades, from
whom some say this month derived its name, is fabled to have been the
daughter of Atlas, the supporter of the world, and Pleione, a sea-nymph.
Others ascribe its name to its having been dedicated by Romulus to the
Majores, or Roman senators.
Verstegan affirms of the Anglo-Saxons, that “the pleasant moneth of May
they termed by the name of _Trimilki_, because in that moneth they began
to milke their kine three times in the day.”
Scarcely a poet but praises, or describes, or alludes to the beauties of
this month. Darwin sings it as the offspring of the solar beams, and
invites it to approach and receive the greetings of the elemental
beings:--
Born in yon blaze of orient sky,
Sweet May! thy radiant form unfold;
Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,
And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.
For thee the fragrant zephyrs blow,
For thee descends the sunny shower;
The rills in softer murmurs flow,
And brighter blossoms gem the bower.
Light Graces dress’d in flowery wreaths,
And tiptoe Joys their hands combine;
And Love his sweet contagion breathes,
And laughing dances round thy shrine.
Warm with new life, the glittering throng
On quivering fin and rustling wing
Delighted join their votive songs,
And hail thee, goddess of the spring.
One of Milton’s richest fancies is of this month; he says, that Adam,
discoursing with Eve--
Smil’d with superior love; as Jupiter
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds
That shed May-flowers.
Throughout the wide range of poetic excellence, there is no piece of
higher loveliness than his often quoted, yet never tiring
_Song on May Morning._
Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May! that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale both boast thy blessing!
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.