May in Leo

May, like celestial Una, mild and fair, Her Lion leads thro’ roseate climes of air; In chains of hyacinth content to stray, He neither roars, nor rages on his way. The blue-ey’d month her gladden’d Mistress greets, And calls the vales to yield their bosom’d sweets; Bids morning clouds with orient tinges glow, Each clear brook warble, and each zephyr blow; Each silver’d hedge, each arbour, newly blown, And blossom’d fruit-tree, smile upon the sun; From their green centre, while the plumy throng Pour the wild music of the woodland song.