Brave birds that climb those blue
With notes like showers of dew
From elf-tossed flowers,
Shake your mad wings in mirth,
The secret thoughts of May,
That heaven, once more, may marry our wild earth.
Dark gipsy, she would dance
Challenging, glance for glance,
Her lord's high will,
But that her thoughts take wing
While she lies sleeping;
And, into glory leaping,
Like birds, at sunrise, to her bride-groom sing.
See how with cheeks aglow
And lips apart,
While warm winds, murmuring low
Lay bare her heart,
She dreams that she can hide
Its rosy light
In ferns and flowers this night,
And swim like Dian through this hawthorn-tide.
Then shame her, lavrocks, shame her,
At break of day,
That heaven may trap and tame her
This mad sweet May,
Let all your feathered choir
Leave those warm nests
Between her dawn-flushed breats,
And soar to heaven, singing her young desire.