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 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 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. 
 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! 
 The April winds are magical,
 And thrill our tuneful frames;
  The garden-walks are passional
   read more 
 The April winds are magical,
 And thrill our tuneful frames;
  The garden-walks are passional
   To bachelors and dames. 
 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. 
 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. 
 The lyric sound of laughter
 Fills all the April hills
  The joy-song of the crocus,
  read more 
 The lyric sound of laughter
 Fills all the April hills
  The joy-song of the crocus,
   The mirth of daffodils. 
 Make me over, Mother April,
 When the sap begins to stir!
  When thy flowery hand delivers
 read more 
 Make me over, Mother April,
 When the sap begins to stir!
  When thy flowery hand delivers
   All the mountain-prisoned rivers,
    And thy great heart beats and quivers,
     To revive the days that were. 
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!