Helen Hunt Jackson (Helen Hunt)

O month when they who love must love and wed.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
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On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And made his eldest son, one day,
Slave in his father's stead.

For April sobs while these are so glad
April weeps while these are so gay,--
Weeps like read more

For April sobs while these are so glad
April weeps while these are so gay,--
Weeps like a tired child who had,
Playing with flowers, lost its way.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?

When the baby dies,
On every side
Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud.
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When the baby dies,
On every side
Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud.
The baby was not wrapped in any shroud.
The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed
That men's eyes might not see
Her misery.