APRIL

There's a murmur in the patient forest alleys,

There's an elfin echo whispering through the trees,

Lonely pipes are lifted softly in the valleys...

All the air is filled with waking melodies.

From the crucibles of Erebus and Endor,

Flame of emerald has fallen by the rills,

And it flashes up the slope and sits in splendor

In the glory of the beauty of the hills.

Now my heart will yearn again to voice its wonder

And my song must sing again between the words

With a mutter of unutterable thunder

And a twitter of inimitable birds.