April

1

In April time, flowers come like dreams; —
The nightingales, and cuckoo's sing, —
The may-fly setling on the streams,
Makes wrinkles with its russet wing: —
The rivers sedge is sprouting green,
The mare-blobs are in burnished gold,
The daisies spread about the green,
And all is lovely to behold. —

2

The skylark winnows in the air,
And cheers the valley with his song;
The slopes are green, the scene is fair,
And herd-boys whistle all day long.
The ash tree's they are full of flower,
The fallen ones float on the stream;
The sun through haze like misty shower,
Shines warmly on the lovely scene.

3

The meadows they are emerald green,
The river sparkles with the light; —
Like snow storms are the orchard seen; —
The fields are with daisies white,
The buttercups are buds of green; —
That bye-and bye-are flowers of Gold,
The fields look warm, the air serene,
And all is lovely to behold.

4

'Tis spring the april of the year,
The holiday of birds and flowers,
Some build ere yet the leaves appear,
While others wait for safer hours: —
Hid in green leaves that shun the shower,
They're safe and happy all along —
The meanest weed now finds a flower,
The simplest bird will learn a song.
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