May is so beautiful:
Orchards are fair;
Branches of fruit trees
Make gardens of air.
Flowers of fragrance
Bloom in the light;
Fall like the snowflakes
Showering white.
Orchards of heaven
Grow with a grace,
And like a blessing
Perfume the place.
Each tree in blossom,
Each lovely spray,
In this month of Our Lady,
Bring glory to May.
Helen Maring
The Magnificat. Volume LXVIII. Number 1. May 1941.
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All early in the morning
I rose to greet the day,
And underneath my window
I saw a Child at play.
The robins were not fearful
Of one so mild and meek;
They lighted on His shoulder
And nested at His cheek.
He picked the clustering roses,
The lily in its sheath,
The long-stemmed purple violets,
And wove them in a wreath.
And then I saw a Lady
Come walking in the dew;
Her robe was white as starshine,
Her mantle was deep blue.
And as the Child approached her,
All sweetly she knelt down
And bent her head, receiving
His fragrant, flowery crown.
Helen Connolly
The Magnificat. Volume LXVI. Number 1. May 1940.
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|
MARY'S MONTH
Now that the sun is shining again, and at night
Perhaps, yes, in the sense that we know she is there,
Naomi Burton |
The Virgin and the Child
|
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Hail, sweet month of May!
Hail, bright month of May!
Bring sunshine with thee,
Chasing clouds away.
March has left us sighing
In cold and chilly blast,
April's tears have fallen,
May has come at last!
I will wander in the meadows,
I will search in sunny bowers,
I will cut sweet-scented posies,
I will twine a wreath of flowers.
The lily and the rosebud
With May I will entwine,
And lay them for an offering
Upon Our Lady's shrine.
And there is another offering
Which at Mary's feet I'll lay,
I know that she will prize it more
Than all the flowers of May,
I will pray to her to keep it
And never from it part,
And my Queen will deign to take it -
My poor, yet loving heart.
I will pray to her to guide it,
In truth and wisdom's way,
And make it pure and balmy
As the flowers which spring in May;
I will pray to her to warm it
With the sunshine of her love,
And make it fit to deck a crown
One day in heaven above.
Anonymous
The Catholic Record
Volume 9. May 1875
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Blooming flowers and singing birds
Hail the month of May;
The springing leaves and sunshine
Fairest tributes pay.
Every little bright-winged bird
Its sweet story sings;
Every flower and blossom
Richest perfume flings.
And every leaf upon the trees,
Every dewdrop fair,
Every whisper, hushed, and still,
Of sweet summer air,
Tells the same soft pleading story
To Mary, full of grace -
How her children so far from her,
Long to see her face.
Anonymous
The Catholic Record. Volume 5. May 1873.
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|
OUR LADY OF THE FLOWERS
It's Maying tide all over the earth,
Anonymous |
The Madonna with the Carnation |
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| MAY--A MONTH FOR OUR LADY | |
|
The birch is thy sister, thy brother the oak, The palm tree stands as thy royal symbol, The beech, the olive, the yew and the fir Remember the days when thou walkedst beneath them. For thee sounds the meadow lark's joyous song, The song of the robin, the throstle and finch, The plaintive song of queen nightingale, The bells of all lands ring out for thee.
The ocean reflects thy image, the moon,
Thou art the white Madonna of France,
Anonymous |
The Virgin and Child with |
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To greet thee is greeting all human hearts
To whom thou hast opened God's treasure troves
Of joy and salvation, of hope and peace.
Thou art more fair than Eve in her beauty,
More beautiful than star-like Esther,
More valiant then Judith, the brave,
For thou wert with God in the beginning
of His ways,
Before he made the mountains and the sea,
Delight of the Triune ever plating before Him,
First-born of all His beloved creatures,
Sweet like the dawn and mild like the dusk;
Thy name is written into the sky
A sign that shall nevermore be erased.
Anonymous
The Christian Family and Our Missions. May 1950.
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Grace was poured out over thy lips
When thou cam'st forth like the
morning rising
Like the rainbow smiling over the
clouds.
The daughters of Sion saw thee
walking
And called thee blessed, eternal
woman
Whose eyes are pools of mystery
and mercy,
Whose mouth only utters words of wisdom,
Whose mother hands spread only blessing.
Blessed is thy womb that bore God's Son,
Who came leaping from the hills of heaven,
Fleet like a young roe to kiss thy brow
And call thee mother, and winter ceased on the earth;
Forever the Spirit's bride and the Father's
Beloved daughter unlike all others,
God's turtledove, God's white swan,
Woman clothed with the sun and the moon at thy feet,
And a crown of twelve stars upon thy head
Sparkling like gold and the hue of the crocus.
Return to May Poetry Index
| MAY IS FOR MARY | |
|
Every tree, every flower is a poem for thee, Every landscape is richer when thy shrines grace it; Dost thou watch the lamps that burn at thy grottoes? Dost thou hark to the chorus that swells through the ages? Dost thou hear the canticles that rise from thy children, Virgin of virgins and Mother of mothers, Royal priestess descended from Abraham and David? Chosen from all eternity queen rose of the world?
Remember, O Mary, despite all thy mildness,
Anonymous |
The Virgin and Child with the |
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Hail, Queen of May,
Hail, Queen of May,
Let children's eyes again brighten with hope,
Let mothers fondle their babes in joy,
Let roses bloom again on the Moldava,
Let lilies sprout on the shores of the Volga,
But, oh, I hear the mocking laugh from the mouth of hell,
The dragon of old, thy archenemy Satan,
Has cast a blight on the greening earth,
Has muted thy praise in a thousand places,
Has caused the redeemed to rebel against God
And His Anointed, thy own divine Son.
Crush his head with thy virgin foot,
All powerful Virgin, Mother of Christ,
We remember thy past deeds of grace,
Thy eyes were red with tears at La Salette,
Thy lips spoke words of warning at Lourdes,
And asked for prayer and penance at Fatima's cave.
All powerful Virgin Mother of Christ,
Silence the hiss of the ugly serpent.
Pray for us all, bless us all,
Queen of May! Queen of May!
Anonymous
The Christian Family and Our Missions. May 1950.
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