May quotes

But it's a long, long while From May to December; And the days grow short When you reach September.

- Maxwell Anderson
  'September Song' (music by Kurt  Weill).

Ask me no more whither dost haste The nightingale when May is past; For in your sweet dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her note.

-Thomas Carew
  'A Song'.

What, then, was war? No mere discord of flags But an infection of the common sky That sagged ominously upon the earth Even when the season was the airiest May?

- Robert von Ranke Graves
  'Recalling War'.

Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May.

- A(lfred) E(dward) Housman
  Last Poems, no.9.

May will be fine next year as like as not: Oh, ay, but then we shall be twenty-four.

- A(lfred) E(dward) Housman
  Last Poems, no.9.

Fast fading violets covered up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

-John Keats
  Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St.  Agnes and Other Poems,'Ode to a Nightingale', stanza 5.

And thushit passes onfrome Candylmasuntyll Ester, that the moneth of May was com, whan every lusty harte begynnith to blossom and to burgyne. For, lyke as trees and erbys burgenyth and florysshyth in May, lyke wyse every lusty harte that is ony maner of lover spryngith, burgenyth, buddyth, and florysshyth in lusty dedis.

- SirThomas   d.1471 Malory
c.1470  Morte d'Arthur, bk.18, ch.25.

It's a funny kind of month,October. For the really keen cricket fan it's when you realise that your wife left you in May.

- Denis Norden
Quoted in She magazine,1977.

And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, Green cowbind and the moonlight-coloured may.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley
  'The Question', stanza 3.

Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.

-Tennyson
  Idylls of the King,'The Coming of Arthur', l.481.

Let no man boast himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least the seventh of May.

- Anthony Trollope
  DoctorThorne, ch.47.

21st Mayagloriousday forbeauty.Iwishyoucould see how lovely our country is at this fine season.

-William Wordsworth
  Letter toWilliam Boxall, 21 May.