MASQUE IN MAYTIME
by May Morton
The stillness breathes as all the curtained dark grows vibrant with a hushed expectancy; the garden, sleeping in the shawl of night, stirs restlessly and sighs. But morning waits, eager, bright-sandalled, in the shadowy wings till, with a startled and uneasy cry, a lone bird twitters, sleeps, then cries again with twitterings grown urgent "Wake! awake!" and, as the chorus of bird music swells to clear, full-throated ecstasy, the dawn raises night's filmy curtains, one by one.
Wake!
Wake!
Awake! awake! awake!
Joy, joy, joy! Let morning break, let morning break!
Sing, sing, sing! Joyous morn, joyous morn!
Joy, joy, joy! Day is born, day is born!
Beauty!
Beauty!
Weep, weep, weep!
Sing, sing, sing! Joyous morn, joyous morn!
Joy, joy, joy! Day is born, day is born!
Beauty!
Beauty!
Weep, weep, weep!
Sing, sing, sing! Let morning break, let morning break!
Wake!
Wake!
Awake, awake, awake!
Responsive now the dancers of dawn,
gay children of the Maytime, fair as love,
golden as happiness, glide nimbly north
and fill the shadowed scene with radiant light.
Shimmering,
Glimmering,
Out of the dawn.
Golden-limbed dancers flit over the lawn;
Waking the blossoming trees as they pass,
Lighting the dew-lamps a-swing in the grass:
Shimmering,
Glimmering,
Radiant and fair,
Flinging their gossamer scarves in the air,
Shimmering,
Glimmering,
Daring and gay,
Golden-limbed dancers leap into the day!
In charming pose upon tinselled lawn, miming an interlude, the flowering trees bow smiling recognition each to each: a white-flounced cherry who till now has been the prima ballerina of the stage admires, though with a scarcely veiled dismay, the glowing youth and careless artistry of pyrus pirouetting on her toes: a bride-plant in a pearl-embroidered gown leans on the air her slender loveliness and shyly hangs her head. Two apple trees grown dignified and tal through many Mays still wear with vanity their rich brocades: a silver birch, wild dryad of the woods, with stretching arms like green up-leaping flames, partners a lilac whose demure appeal is burdened by her heavy purple crown. Laurels and hollies, aping armoured knights dark-visaged in their shining coats of mail, crowd in the wings and stand aloof and stern.
A hush, a pause, a conscious fluttering,
a sigh that ends the miming.
Now the dance!
Laughing breezes come and go,
Come and go, come and go,
As the trees all curtsey low,
Curtsey low, curtsey low,
Every breeze that comes to woo
Is a lover fond and true:
Every tree with blossomed bough
Has become a maiden now!
Cherry wearing white and green
Swings her spreading crinoline
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Pyrus in a scarlet dress
Trembles at each light caress
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Bride-plant robed in pearly white
Swoons in transport of delight
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Silver birch so slim and fair
Flings her dainty limbs in air
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Lilac in a purple gown
Sways her flounces up and down
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Apples rather prim and staid
Rustle in their stiff brocade
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Pert azaleas in the grass
Kiss their partners when they pass
As through minuet and tango,
Slow pavane and swift fandango,
Bright winds call and sunbeams say
"Dance! Dance! merry, merry maids of May!"
Faster, faster grows the measure,
Life is rhythm and love is pleasure,
Every dancer mad and merry——
Lilac, pyrus, bride-plant, cherry——
Flirting, flaunting, swinging, swaying,
All the world has gone a-maying!
Whirling, swirling, gay, beguiling,
Teasing, pleasing, sighing, smiling,
Till at last the wild crescendo
Fades to soft diminuendo,
Spellbound maidens languid grow
'As the pale winds, sighing, go——
All their lingering tenderness
Gentle in a last caress.
Held in an ecstasy of golden dream the trees, enchanted, stand. The amorous sun, long fingers warm as quivering heart-strings stretched from out life's burning core, now claims the morn with benediction that is part embrace. Light gathers the rare moment to enfold its sweet perfection in eternity. Then all the beauty turns to melody, for loveliness is music whose clear voice binds earth to heaven in one transcendent note that vibrates and is gone.
A troubled breath,
half shadow and half sound, shatters the spell that holds the shining day entranced in time. The wind-strings moan till their discordant wail creates the anguished fear they seek to still, wild panic of unreason swells and spreads as terror summons terror with a cry! For all the listening trees are trembling now with premonition of impending ill: the cherry's white and supplicating hands implore the heavens, the lilac bends to earth fearful and shuddering. One by one pale forms in frantic movements stoop and lean and strain, as though by strategy each night escape the sacrament of pain that all must share.
Louder the wailing wind-strings call,
Darker the swift cloud-shadows fall:
Storm-demons armed with icy flail
Leap to the earth in lashing hail!
Dancing! Prancing! Never maid
May escape the demons' raid:
Dancing! Prancing! Now they press,
Trampling on that loveliness.
Bride-plant, dishevelled in her pain,
Is beaten to the earth again!
Fleeing maidens, backward glancing,
Ice-shod demons, madly prancing,
Stinging lashes, icy whips,
Barren kisses, frozen lips,
Demons leaping,
Maidens weeping,
Twisting, turning, stooping, spurning,
Striving with a frenzied grace
To evade that cold embrace.
Cherry, with writhings of distress,
Is prisoned in that wild caress!
Fleeing maidens, backward glancing,
Ice-shod demons, madly prancing,
Stinging lashes, icy whips,
Barren kisses, frozen lips,
Demons leaping,
Maidens weeping,
Twisting, turning, stooping, spurning,
Striving with a frenzied grace
To evade that cold embrace.
Pyrus, in terror and alarm,
Must yield and lose her fair young charm!
Fleeing maidens, backward glancing,
Ice-shod demons, madly prancing,
Stinging lashes, icy whips,
Barren kisses, frozen lips,
Demons leaping,
Maidens weeping,
Twisting, turning, stooping, spurning,
Striving with a frenzied grace
To evade that cold embrace.
Passion spend, the demons leave,
Broken now, the maidens grieve,
Sighing, sighing their despair,
Weeping, weeping everywhere.
Dark, dark the gloom of sorrow's hour
Till, lovely as a new-blown flower,
In sudden radiance angel-bright
A wraith-like fantasy appears.
Her robe of many-coloured light
A web of sunbeams sewn with tears.
Above the misery and stress
She raises shining hands to bless,
Writes out her message on the air,
Smiles once, and is no longer there!
But gentle Pity, veiled in grey,
Healer and comforter, will stay
To share the maidens' bitter pain
And, weeping with them, will remain
To cleanse their grief of shames and fears
With her pure benizon of tears.
The masque is ended, and the music stilled to fitful sighing. On the storm-drenched lawn the mournful trees——frail puppets of the wind who danced and mimed a life's vicissitudes—— caressed in sunshine and deflowered in hail have crowned the rainbow with their grieving now and stand quiescent in the healing rain.