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The April winds are magical,
And thrill our tuneful frames;
The garden-walks are passional
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The April winds are magical,
And thrill our tuneful frames;
The garden-walks are passional
To bachelors and dames.
Sweet April-time--O cruel April-time!
Year after year returning, with a brow
Of promise, and red lips with read more
Sweet April-time--O cruel April-time!
Year after year returning, with a brow
Of promise, and red lips with longing paled,
And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys
Of vanished springs, like flowers.
The children with the streamlets sing,
When April stops at last her weeping;
And every happy growing read more
The children with the streamlets sing,
When April stops at last her weeping;
And every happy growing thing
Laughs like a babe just roused from sleeping.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
Again the blackbirds sings; the streams
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April read more
Again the blackbirds sings; the streams
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April showers
The tassels of the maple flowers.
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
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!
She who from April dates her years,
Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears
For vain repentance flow; read more
She who from April dates her years,
Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears
For vain repentance flow; this stone,
Emblem of innocence is known.
The first of April, some do say
Is set apart for All Fools' day;
But why the read more
The first of April, some do say
Is set apart for All Fools' day;
But why the people call it so,
Nor I, nor they themselves, do know.