I cannot tell you how it was,
But this I know: it came to pass
Upon a bright and sunny day
When May was young; ah, pleasant May!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last egg had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird foregone its mate.
I cannot tell you what it was,
But this I know: it did but pass.
It passed away with sunny May,
Like all sweet things it passed away,
And left me old, and cold, and gray.
- Audio / video
- Christina Rossetti, "May" at the Victorian Poetry Network
- "Mystery, Scene and the Passage of Time in Christina Rossetti's 'May' at the Victorian Web