Classic Poem

In Spring the day is early
And wakes a rosy world,
Where all the twigs are pearly
And every bud's uncurled.
The birds are up and singing
Before they can be seen, —
And April winds are winging
Their way to make earth green.

In Spring the sun grows pleasant,
To prove that he is fond,
He scatters for a present
Gold pieces in each pond.
He sets the bell-flowers ringing
With perfumed melodies, —
And April winds run swinging
Among the startled trees.

In Spring the night is starry;
Sleep taps upon the door
And not a heart is sorry
Though daylight is no more;
It knows the night is bringing
Dreams for another day, —
And April winds are singing
The silent hours away.