From off my calendar today
 A leaf I tear;
So swiftly passes smiling May
 Without a care.
And now the gentleness of June
 Will fleetly fly
And I will greet the glamour moon
 Of lush July.
 
Beloved months so soon to pass,
 Alas, I see
The slim sand silvering the glass
 Of Time for me;
As bodingly midwinter woe
 I wait with rue,
Oh how I grudge the days to go!
 They are so few.

A Calendar's a gayful thing
 To grace a room;
And though with joy of life I sing,
 With secret gloom
I add this merry month of May
 To eighty past,
Thinking each page I tear away
 May be my last.