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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
APRIL.
Between the sudden sunlight and the rain
The birds sing gayly in the path wherethrough
I walk, and note the sky's ethereal blue,—
Pure as the peace that's won, at last, from pain.
The sunshine and the sun-bright showers ordain
A festival of laughing flowers, whereto
The bees go buzzing past me; trees renew
Their lives of green; the whole land smiles again.
The birds sing gayly in the path wherethrough
I walk, and note the sky's ethereal blue,—
Pure as the peace that's won, at last, from pain.
The sunshine and the sun-bright showers ordain
A festival of laughing flowers, whereto
The bees go buzzing past me; trees renew
Their lives of green; the whole land smiles again.
O April, longed for so through cheerless hours,
Thou who dost turn to silver winter's gray!
What is it ails thy skies, thy birds, thy flowers,
Gives to thy winds a mournful word to say,
And brings a sound of weeping with the showers,—
What, but the thought of Aprils passed away?
Thou who dost turn to silver winter's gray!
What is it ails thy skies, thy birds, thy flowers,
Gives to thy winds a mournful word to say,
And brings a sound of weeping with the showers,—
What, but the thought of Aprils passed away?
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |