C F The Moon of Flowers

Editor’s Foreword

The month of May (or thereabouts) was known by some Native American tribes as the month of flowers, or the blossom moon. (In English, the words month and moon share a common origin as many peoples in history used the moon as a guide for their calendars.)

Oh, moon of flowers! Sweet moon of flowers,
Why dost thou mind me of the hours
Which flew so softly on that night
When I last saw and felt thy light?

Oh, moon of flowers! Thou moon of flowers,
Would thou couldst give me back those hours,
Since which a dull cold year has fled,
Or show me those with whom they sped!

Oh, moon of flowers! Oh, moon of flowers!
In scenes afar were past those hours,
Which still with fond regret I see,
And wish my heart could change like thee!

 

About the Author

17941845. Born in Medford, Massachusetts, moved around due to several deaths in her family. First, her father, then her husband and finally her brother. To distract herself from the hardships of her life, she turned to poetry, eventually earning the praise of Robert Southey and Edgar Allan Poe.

 

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