English Poetry. Anne Hunter. May Day. Энн Хантер.

Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер)

May Day

THE village bells ring merrily,
The milk maids sing so cheerily,
With flow'ry wreaths and ribbons crown'd,
Now May Day comes its annual round;
The may-pole rears its lofty head,
Round on the turf they dance and play;
While I the distant pathway tread,
And shun their dance, and festive lay.
The wither'd leaves fell mournfully,
The autumn blast blew cold for me,

When Lubin left me at the door
Of our lone cottage on the moor.
He follows far the fife and drum,
In scarlet deck'd, and feathers gay;
Ah ! while he wanders far from home,
How can I hail the festive May?

Anne Hunter’s other poems:

1. Song 2. FAR from this throbbing bosom haste
2. To the Memory of a Lovely Infant, Written Seven Years after His Death
3. Song 6. IN airy dreams fond fancy flies
4. Song 5. FAR, far from me my love is fled
5. The Farewell

Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона) May Day (“I wish I were to-day on the hill behind the wood”)

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