Here you will find the Poem The End Of May of poet Katharine Lee Bates
THE fragrant air is full of down, Of floating, fleecy things From some forgotten fairy town Where all the folk wear wings. Or else the snowflakes, soft arrayed In dainty suits of lace, Have ventured back in masquerade, Spring's festival to grace. Or these, perchance, are fleets of fluff, Laden with rainbow seeds, That count their cargo rich enough Though all its wealth be weeds. Or come they from the golden trees, Where dancing blossoms were, That now are drifting on the breeze, Sweet ghosts of gossamer?
