But with whatever indifference they may be regarded by those "to
the manner born," yet in my mind the lingering flavour of them imparts
a charm to rustic life, which nothing else could readily supply.
I shall never forget the delight I felt on first seeing a May-pole. It
was on the banks of the Dee, close by the picturesque old bridge that
stretches across the river from the quaint little city of Chester. I
had already been carried back into former days, by the antiquities of
that venerable place; the examination of which is equal to turning
over the pages of a black-letter volume, or gazing on the pictures
in Froissart. The May-pole on the margin of that poetic stream
completed the illusion. My fancy adorned it with wreaths of flowers,
and peopled the green bank with all the dancing revelry of May-day.
The mere sight of this May-pole gave a glow to my feelings, and spread
a charm over the country for the rest of the day; and as I traversed a
part of the fair plain of Cheshire, and the beautiful borders of
Wales, and looked from among swelling hills down a long green valley,
through which "the Deva wound its wizard stream," my imagination
turned all into a perfect Arcadia.
Whether it be owing to such poetical associations early instilled into
my mind, or whether there is, as it were, a sympathetic revival and
budding forth of the feelings at this season, certain it is, that I
always experience, wherever I may be placed, a delightful expansion of
the heart at the return of May.
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