April
At last we see the shadows play again
At hide and seek, the shadows of the leaves,
And swallows build new nests between the eaves;
For Spring is with us, bringing in her train
Flowers and songs, and sudden rustling rain,
And golden mornings when the poet perceives
What stealthy shadow nets the sunshine weaves.
Striving to catch the singing birds in vain.
But who walks sternly with the wayward Spring?
Is it white Winter, eager still to slay,
Thwarting our laughter with her sullen glance?
Yet surely, very soon she will take wing
And leave us to the loveliness of May,
The South wind days when all the shadows dance.
At hide and seek, the shadows of the leaves,
And swallows build new nests between the eaves;
For Spring is with us, bringing in her train
Flowers and songs, and sudden rustling rain,
And golden mornings when the poet perceives
What stealthy shadow nets the sunshine weaves.
Striving to catch the singing birds in vain.
But who walks sternly with the wayward Spring?
Is it white Winter, eager still to slay,
Thwarting our laughter with her sullen glance?
Yet surely, very soon she will take wing
And leave us to the loveliness of May,
The South wind days when all the shadows dance.
65
