The lyric sound of laughter
Fills all the April hills
The joy-song of the crocus,
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The lyric sound of laughter
Fills all the April hills
The joy-song of the crocus,
The mirth of daffodils.

April, April,
Laugh thy girlish laughter,
Then, the moment after,
Weep thy girlish tears!

April, April,
Laugh thy girlish laughter,
Then, the moment after,
Weep thy girlish tears!

Every tear is answered by a blossom,
Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
April-blooms upon the read more

Every tear is answered by a blossom,
Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
April-blooms upon the breezes toss them.
April knows her own, and is content.

A woman that is like a German clock,
Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
And never going read more

A woman that is like a German clock,
Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watched that it may still go right!

A maiden born when Autumn leaves
Are rustling in September's breeze,
A Sapphire on her brow should read more

A maiden born when Autumn leaves
Are rustling in September's breeze,
A Sapphire on her brow should bind,
'Twill cure diseases of the mind.

Now the noisy winds are still;
April's coming up the hill!
All the spring is in her read more

Now the noisy winds are still;
April's coming up the hill!
All the spring is in her train,
Led by shining ranks of rain;
Pit, pat, patter, clatter,
Sudden sun and clatter patter!
. . . .
All things ready with a will,
April's coming up the hill!

The more tranquil a man becomes, the greater is his success, his influence, his power for good. Calmness of mind read more

The more tranquil a man becomes, the greater is his success, his influence, his power for good. Calmness of mind is one of the beautiful jewels of wisdom.

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others read more

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

'Tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,
And I read more

'Tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in sale stowage.