|
 |
Listings |
 |
Clinton Scollard
The lyric sound of laughter Fills all the April hills The joy-song of the crocus, The mirth of daffodils.
|
Dinah Maria Mulock used pseudonym Mrs. Craik
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.
|
Harriet Prescott Spofford
A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew, A cloud, and a rainbow's warning, Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue-- An April day in the morning.
|
Helen Hunt Jackson Helen Hunt
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.
|
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms.
|
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
|
John Clare
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.
|
John Greenleaf Whittier
Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
|
Lucy Larcom
The children with the streamlets sing, When April stops at last her weeping; And every happy growing thing Laughs like a babe just roused from sleeping.
|
Mary Mapes Dodge
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!
|
Ralph Waldo Emerson
The April winds are magical, And thrill our tuneful frames; The garden-walks are passional To bachelors and dames.
|
Richard Hovey
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.
|
Sir William Watson
April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter, Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears!
|
T.S. Eliot Thomas Stearns Eliot
April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.
|
Unattributed Author
She who from April dates her years, Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears For vain repentance flow; this stone, Emblem of innocence is known.
|
Unattributed Author
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.
|
William Cullen Bryant
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.
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Browse Categories |
|
|
|
