How pale and glum, how cloudy May,
The skies draped in bone China white.
The mist and waters — one today;
No sunny beach, no warm sunlight.
A lonely manifestation
Of longing for shores out of reach;
A quiet, des’prate desolation
Where cold waves crash the rocky beach.
The hope is slim for brighter days,
Suck fickle humor for late spring;
The icy seas will have their way,
You must make do with with you bring.