MAY. Hark! The sea-faring wild-fowl loud proclaim

My coming, and the swarming of the bees. These are my heralds, and behold! my name Is written in blossoms on the hawthorn

trees. I tell the mariner when to sail the seas;

I waft o'er all the land from far away The breath and bloom of the Hesperides,

My birthplace. I am Maia. I am May.

MARCH. I Martius am! Once first, and now the third !

To lead the Year was my appointed place; A mortal dispossessed me by a word,

And set there Janus with the double face. Hence I make war on all the human race;

I shake the cities with my hurricanes;
I flood the rivers and their banks efface,
And drown the farms and hamlets with my
rains.

APRIL.
I open wide the portals of the Spring

To welcome the procession of the flowers. With their gay banners, and the birds that

sing Their song

of songs from their aerial towers, I soften with my sunshine and my showers The heart of earth; with thoughts of love

I glide Into the hearts of men; and with the Hours

Upon the Bull with wreathèd horns I ride.

JUNE. Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine

The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming

vine, The foliage of the valleys and the heights. Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;

The mower's scythe makes music to my ear: I am the mother of all dear delights;

I am the fairest daughter of the year.