The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit.
~~ Sir Thomas Malory

Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora.

Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
~~Robert Herrick