THE FIRST OF MAY

The orchards half the way

From home to Ludlow fair

Flowered on the first of May

In Mays when I was there;

And seen from stile or turning

The plume of smoke would show

Where fires were burning

That went out long ago.

The plum broke forth in green,

The pear stood high and snowed,

My friends and I between

Would take the Ludlow road;

Dressed to the nines and drinking

And light in heart and limb,

And each chap thinking

The fair was held for him.

Between the trees in flower

New friends at fairtime tread

The way where Ludlow tower

Stands planted on the dead.

Our thoughts, a long while after,

They think, our words they say;

Theirs now's the laughter,

The fair, the first of May.

Ay, yonder lads are yet

The fools that we were then;

For oh, the sons we get

Are still the sons of men.

The sumless tale of sorrow

Is all unrolled in vain:

May comes to-morrow

And Ludlow fair again.