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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.
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, read more
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
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.
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!
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
read more
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
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.
Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn
Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May
read more
Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn
Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May
New blooming blossoms 'neath the sun are born,
And all poor April's charms are swept away.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
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.