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The Month of April


 

april mmmmm

 The Month of April

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud come over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”
–  Robert Frost, Two Tramps in Mud Time, 1926 

 

“And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.”
–  Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Sensitive Plant 

 

“Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly–and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.”
–  Omar Khayyám

 

“The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year.”
–  Mark Twain

 

Note:  This webpage is now updated and maintained at a new location

 

“Spring would not be spring without bird songs.”
–  Francis M. Chapman

 

“That God once loved a garden we learn in Holy writ.
And seeing gardens in the Spring I well can credit it.”
–  Winifred Mary Letts

 

“O Day after day we can’t help growing older.
Year after year spring can’t help seeming younger.
Come let’s enjoy our winecup today,
Nor pity the flowers fallen.”
–  Wang Wei, On Parting with Spring  

 

“The April rain, the April rain,
Comes slanting down in fitful showers,
Then from the furrow shoots the grain,
And banks are fledged with nestling flowers;
And in grey shawl and woodland bowers
The cuckoo through the April rain
Calls once again.”
–  Mathilde Blind, April Rain    

 

“Keep your faith in all beautiful things; in the sun when it is hidden, in the Spring when it is gone.”
–  Roy R. Gilson

 

“Tossing his mane of snows in wildest eddies and tangles, 
Lion-like March cometh in, hoarse, with tempestuous breath, 
Through all the moaning chimneys, and ‘thwart all the hollows and angles 
Round the shuddering house, threating of winter and death. 

But in my heart I feel the life of the wood and the meadow 
Thrilling the pulses that own kindred with fibers that lift 
Bud and blade to the sunward, within the inscrutable shadow, 
Deep in the oak’s chill core, under the gathering drift. 

Nay, to earth’s life in mine some prescience, or dream, or desire 
(How shall I name it aright?) comes for a moment and goes– 
Rapture of life ineffable, perfect–as if in the brier, 
Leafless there by my door, trembled a sense of the rose.”
–  William Dean Howell, Earliest Spring 

 

“When the time is ripe for certain things,
these things appear in different places in the manner
of violets coming to light in the early spring.”
–  Farkas Bolyai 

 

“April’s rare capricious loveliness.”
–  Julia Dorr

 

“You start in April and cross to the time of May
One has you as it leaves, one as it comes
Since the edges of these months are yours and defer
To you, either of them suits your praises.
The Circus continues and the theatre’s lauded palm,
Let this song, too, join the Circus spectacle.”
–  Ovid, Fasti (V.185-190, CE)

 

“Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sellp-song on our roof at night–
And I love the rain.”
–  Langston Hughes, 1902-1967, April Rain Song

 

“Sweet April showers
Do spring May flowers.”
–  Thomas Tusser, A Hundred Good Points of Husbandry, 1557  

 

“Every spring is the only spring – a perpetual astonishment.”  
–  Ellis Peters

 

“I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, or June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the bridal cakes.”
–  Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 1648 

 

“Now that the winter’s gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream;
But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth,
And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth
To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree
The drowsy cuckoo and the humble-bee.
Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring
In triumph to the world the youthful spring.”
–  Thomas Carew, The Spring, 1630    

 

 

“This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.”
–  D. H. Lawrence, The Enkindled Spring 

 

“When the April wind wakes the call for the soil, I hold the plough as my only hold upon the earth, and, as I follow through the fresh and fragrant furrow, I am planted with every foot-step, growing, budding, blooming into a spirit of spring.”
–  Dallas Lore Sharp, 1870-1929 

 

“If Spring came but once in a century, instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change!  But now the silent succession suggests nothing but necessity.  To most men only the cessation of the miracle would be miraculous and the perpetual exercise of God’s power seems less wonderful than its withdrawal would be.”
–  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow   

 

“Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!”
–  Wallace Stevens

 

“Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south! 
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth. 

In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist, 
And the river’s orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst. 

Every limpid brook is singing
Of the lure of April days; 
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays. 

Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils, 
Giving to the golden weather
Greeting on the sun-warm hills.”
–  Lucy Maud Montgomery, Spring Song

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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