APRIL

A laughter of wind and a leaping of cloud,

And April, oh, out under the blue!

The brook is awake and the blackbird loud

In the dew!

But how does the robin high in the beech,

Beside the wood with its shake and toss,

Know it — the frenzy of bluets to reach

Thro’ the moss!

And where did the lark ever learn his speech?

Up, wildly sweet, he's over the mead!

Is more than the rapture of earth can teach

In its creed?

I never shall know — I never shall care!

‘ Tis, oh, enough to live and to love!

To laugh and warble and dream and dare

Are to prove!