May Sayings and Quotes
May is synonymous with the gifts of spring: flowers and good weather. After the storm, comes the sunshine. Celebrate spring and new beginnings with the collection of insightful May quotes below.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, / Her checks like the dawn of day, / And her bosom white as the hawthorn bud / That ope in the month of May.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain, / Beneath the sun of May, / And frightened from our sprouting grain / The robber crows away.
John Greenleaf Whittier
Most holy Mary! at thy feet I bend a suppliant knee; / In this thy own sweet month of May, Dear Mother of my God, I pray, / Do thou remember me.
Rev. Edward Caswall
Is not the Maytime now on earth, / When close against the city wall / The folk are singing in their mirth, / While on their heads the Mayflowers fall?
Yes, May is come, and its sweet breath / Shall well-nigh make you weep to-day, / And pensive with swift-coming death, / Shall ye be satiate of the May.
May has come in, — young May, the beautiful, / Weaving the sweetest chaplet of the year. / Along the eastern corridors she walks, / What time the clover rocks the earliest bee, / Her feet a flush with sunrise, and her veil / Floating in breezy odors o’er her hair ;
Thomas Buchanan Read
First night of May! and the soft-silvered moon / Frightens her semicircle in the blue;
Where shall we keep the holiday, / And duly greet the entering May?
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, / Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her / The flowery May, who from her green lap throws / The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire / Mirth and youth and warm desire ; / Woods and groves are of thy dressing, / Hill and vale doth boast thy blessing.
The earth can, like the soul, but once be wed. / The sun, howe’er his love may slacken or stray, / In March woos hotly, wearies of delay / Ere fitful April’s budding-time be sped, / And claims his bridal blossom-time in May.
Henry Gay Hewlett
O shout, for the morning / Hath heard April's warning, / And earth is adorning / The bride-bed of May !
John Addington Symonds
A morning in the month of May, / A laddie standing at a gate ; / A look, but not a word to say ; / A sigh from one without a mate.
Oh, sing ! the swallows are in tune, / Forget the rain of yesterday; / A few more suns will bring us June, / And this, ’tis Chaucer’s month, — ’tis May.
Thomas William Parsons
Among the changing months, May stands confessed / The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed!
Yes, it is May! though not that the young leaf pushes its velvet / Out of the sheath, that the stubbornest sprays are beginning to bourgeon, / Larks responding aloft to the mellow flute of the bluebird, / Nor that song and sunshine and odors of life immingled
Comes a time when the pulse of the season has risen still higher, / When the crown of the year is of May, but not yet of the rose, / When the trees through a mist of soft leaves seem to gladly respire / The air that is balm, and to drink of the sunshine that glows ;
How tender is the touch of May / While gentle winds are blowing, / And in a sweet yet silent way, / All sylvan things are growing.
William Hamilton Hayne
Oh ! fragrant is the breath of May / In tranquil garden closes, / And soft yet regal is her sway / Among the springtide roses.
William Hamilton Hayne
Would that thou couldst last for aye, / Merry, ever-merry May ! / Made of sun-gleams, shade and showers, / Bursting buds, and breathing flowers ! / Dripping-locked, and rosy-vested, / Violet slippered, rainbow-crested ; / Girdled with the eglantine, / Festooned with the dewy vine : / Merry, ever-merry May, / Would that thou couldst last for aye !
William D. Gallagher
All maiden lives that waned in their young prime, / From the first throbbing of the heart of Time, / Re-live, I dream, in May’s mysterious grace, / Sing through her birds, and blossom in her face.
Paul Hamilton Hayne
May is a pious fraud of the almanac, / A ghastly parody of real spring
James Russell Lowell
O May, sweet-voiced one, going thus before, / Forever June may pour her warm red wine / Of life and passion, — sweeter days are thine!
Helen Maria Jackson
Sweet month of Mary, month of May, / What pale pure flowerets strew thy way / Bellissima!
Jane Goodwin Austin
Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground, / Decked all with dainties of her seasons pride, / And throwing flowers out of her lap around : / Upon two brethrens’ shoulders she did ride.
O certainly, no month this is but May! / Sweet earth and sky, sweet birds of happy song, / Do make thee happy now, and thou art strong,
In May, when sea winds pierced our solitudes, / I found the fresh rhodora in the woods, / Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, / To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
May, queen of blossoms / And fulfilling flowers, / With what pretty music / Shall we charm the hours?
Of sunlight and green shade, and songs of birds, a happy blending, / Of perfumes, and sweet sounds, and eyes’ delight, / Mild showers, and blooming boughs, a pleasure never-ending, / A gentle coming on of calm, cool night, — / These, these are blessings scattered in our way, / In happy May.
George Walter Thornbury
When in a May day hush / Chanteth the missel-thrush / The harp o’ the heart makes answer with murmurous stirs.