The First Of May

The orchards half the way     From home to Ludlow fair     Flowered on the first of May     In Mays when I was there;     And seen from stile or turning     The plume of smoke would show     Where fires were burning     That went out long ago.     The plum broke forth in green,     The pear stood high and snowed,     My friends and I between     Would take the Ludlow road;     Dressed to the nines and drinking     And light in heart and limb,     And each chap thinking     The fair was held for him.     Between the trees in flower     New friends at fairtime tread     The way where Ludlow tower     Stands planted on the dead.     Our thoughts, a long while after,     They think, our words they say;     Theirs nows the laughter,     The fair, the first of May.     Ay, yonder lads are yet     The fools that we were then;     For oh, the sons we get     Are still the sons of men.     The sumless tale of sorrow     Is all unrolled in vain:     May comes to-morrow     And Ludlow fair again.