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When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, read more
When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multiple
OF golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
Sweet April showers
Do bring May flowers.
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
read more
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him;
Yet nor the lays of birds, not the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.
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.
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
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!
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.
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.
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.
