Why Sir Cupid do you choose
For your happy festival
Just the bleakest month of all?
Rosy June why don't you use,
Or the dainty fingered May,
Or some jocund August day?
"It's because I want to show
How against dear Love's sweet reign
Harshest seasons rage in vain;
Ice and sleet and blinding snow
But the blustering captives are,
Chained to her triumphal car."
Then, Sir Cupid, prithee tell
Why your merry day should fall
In the shortest month of all?
Is your wonder-working spell
As distinctly fugitive
As the month in which you live?
"Stay in shame your slanderous tongue!
It is I, and none but I,
Make this month so quickly fly.
Lovers' time is ever young;
And this month, were I not here,
Were the longest of the year!"