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Why should May remember

March, if March forget

The days that began with December

The nights that a frost could fret?

All their griefs are done with

Now the bright months bless

Fit souls to rejoice in the sun with,

Fit heads for the wind's caress;

Souls of children quickening

With the whole world's mirth,

Heads closelier than field-flowers thickening

That crowd and illuminate earth,

Now that May's call musters

Files of baby bands

To marshal in joyfuller clusters

Than the flowers that encumber their hands.

Yet morose November

Found them no less gay,

With nought to forget or remember

Less bright than a branch of may.

All the seasons moving

Move their minds alike

Applauding, acclaiming, approving

All hours of the year that strike.

So my heart may fret not,

Wondering if my friend

Remember me not or forget not

Or ever the month find end.

Not that love sows lighter

Seed in children sown,

But that life being lit in them brighter

Moves fleeter than even our own.

May nor yet September

Binds their hearts, that yet

Remember, forget, and remember,

Forget, and recall, and forget.