Classic Poem

Now that the green hill-side has quite
Forgot that it was ever white,
With quivering grasses clothed upon;
And dandelions invite the sun;
And columbines have found a way
To overcome the hard and gray
Old rocks that also feel the spring;
And birds make love and swing and sing,
On boughs which were so bare of late;
And bees become importunate;
And butterflies are quite at ease
Upon the well-contented breeze,
Which only is enough to make
A shadowy laughter on the lake;
And all the clouds, that here and there
Are floating, melting in the air,
Are such as beautify the blue; —
Now what is worthier, May, than you
Of all my praise, of all my love,
Except whom you remind me of?