Explore "A Calendar of Sonnets" by Helen Hunt Jackson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O month when they who love must love and wed! / Were one to go to worlds where May is naught, / And seek to tell the memories he had brought / From earth of thee, what were most fitly said? / I know not if the rosy showers shed / From apple-boughs, or if the soft green wrought / In fields, or if the robin's call be fraught / The most with thy delight. Perhaps they read / Thee best who in the ancient time did say / Thou wert the sacred month unto the old: / No blossom blooms upon thy brightest day / So subtly sweet as memories which unfold / In aged hearts which in thy sunshine lie, / To sun themselves once more before they die.