: The Girl's Own Paper
Vol. VI-No.276 April 11, 1885. Found in The Girl's Own Annual 1884-1885. London: The "Leisure Hour" Office. Parker Collection BQ087.1
A Chorus for May by M. M. Pollard
Sunshine is over the plain,
Listen to Nature's grand chorus,
Voice answers voices again,
And the spirit of music steals o'er us;
Listen! the warbling that rises
High in the o'er-arching trees,
The deep woods are full of suprises,
As softly the leaves kiss the breeze.
Linnet, and blackbird, and thrush
Keep time to the tune of the river
That flows amidst pebbles and rush,
And murmurs and ripples for ever.
Oh! clear is the trill of its measure,
As it wanders through many a nook,
As it dimples and ripples with pleasure,
And loses itself in the brook.
Listen! the low mystic sigh
That tells in the pine trees of sadness,
That steals like a requiem by,
A minor key struck in the gladness,
Through aisles that are sombre and solemn,
That even at moon-tide are grey,
Each tree a cathedral-like column,
Whose boughs sigh and whisper for aye.
The grass waves its lows monotone
The insect hums loud as it flashes,
The water-fowl murmurs alone
As a-down in the brooklet is splashes;
And children that gather the daisies,
Chime in with their joy and their play-
All nature resoundeth with praises!
Oh, is there not music in May?