 | In memory of W. V.: William Canton |  |
174
APRIL SONG—I.
Little Boy Blue, come blow, come blow
Through wood and field your magic horn!
The almond blossom is chilled with snow,
The green bud seared on hazel and thorn.
Through wood and field your magic horn!
The almond blossom is chilled with snow,
The green bud seared on hazel and thorn.
We want to see the spring clouds go
Like lambs through sunny fields of morn;
So wake, you Little Boy Blue, and blow
Through wood and field your April horn!
Like lambs through sunny fields of morn;
So wake, you Little Boy Blue, and blow
Through wood and field your April horn!
| In memory of W. V.: William Canton | |