Poetry Archives

When April weeps, she wakes the flowers
That slept the winter through.
Oh, did they dream those frosty hours
That she would be untrue
And not awaken them in time
To smile their smiles of love,
To hear the robin’s merry chime,
And gentle cooing dove?

And when they feel their mother’s tears
So gently o’er them weep,
Will they tell her of their simple fears
And visions while asleep?
And will they tell her that they dreamed,
Beneath their sheets of snow,
Such weary dreamings that it seemed
The winter ne’er would go?

They’ll soon be wide-awake and up,
In dainty robes arrayed,
Blue violet, gold buttercup,
And quaker-lady staid.
Wild eglantine and clustering thorn
Will grace the byway lanes,
Whilst woodland flowers the dells adorn
And daisies cheer the plains.

The rippling streamlet soon will be
A crystal mirror bright
For waving branch and mint and tree
That nod in golden light
Of summer sunbeams glad’ning rays
Filling the heart with love,
While nature and earth, uniting, praise
The God who reigns above.

In lowly spots will lilies spring
And scent the summer breeze,
And on the earth there’ll be no king
Arrayed like one of these.
So weeping April’s tears will bring
Her children from the tomb,
Will dress the earth in robes of spring,
Brightened by fragrant bloom.