May Day - Jack Hardy

    it's not like pan to play his flute
    for those who dance for fun
    the fire flickers through poison roots
    where chance is the run

    it's not like elves to hide their gold
    where fortune seekers dive
    though pirate lore and island shore
    yield only ransomed lives

    there's may day and may wine
    and may i please come home
    but the briar grows before the rose
    and neither grows alone
    we'll dance tonight 'til we faint in the light
    of the dawn's sweet song of spring
    'round the may pole like a day stole
    like our feet are borne of wings

    it's not like sirens to sing their songs
    for sailors with cautious ears
    they lure no coward right or wrong
    and trade not death for fear

    it's not like kings to yield their, wines
    for hundreds of years of war
    though drop by drop the ancient vine
    paints blood on every door

    it's not like the girls to give consent
    to men of ragged prose
    though poets sing of nursery rhymes
    their cradles are filied with hope

    it's not like me to give my heart
    in these drowsy daffodil days
    though dreams they douse the timid spark
    where sleep presents its plays

    it's not like saints to tell the tales
    of nights on windswept moors
    where death defies the dreams of fate
    to close the cellar door

    it's not like shepherds to lay them down
    when wolves are on the prowl
    though songs they scare the waking town
    an ill wind has no howl

    by John S. Hardy © 1978 John S. Hardy Music Co. ASCAP


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