All On An April Morning.

The teacher was wise and learned, I wis,          All nonsense she held in scorning,         But you never can tell what the primmest miss          Will do of a bright spring morning.         What this one did was to spread a snare          For feet of a youth unheeding,         As March, with a meek and lamb-like air,          To its very last hour was speeding.         Oh, he was the dullard of his class,          For how can a youth get learning         With his eyes aye fixed on a pretty lass          And his heart aye filled with yearning?         "Who finds 'mong the rushes which fringe a pool,"          She told him, "the first wind blossom,         May wish what he will" - poor April fool,          With but one wish in his bosom.         Her gray eyes danced - on a wild-goose chase          He'd sally forth on the morrow,         And, later, she'd laugh in his sombre face,          And jest at his words of sorrow.         But penitence and a troubled mind          Were fruits of the night's reflection;         After all, he was simple, and strong, and kind -          'Twas wrong to flout his affection.         They met on the hill as she walked to school;          He said, unheeding her blushes,         "Here's the early flower your April fool          Found growing among the rushes.         "Take it or leave it as you will" -          His voice ringing out so clearly         Awoke in her heart a happy thrill -          "You know that I love you dearly."         Day-dreams indulged as she taught the school          Held lovers kneeling and suing;         "Take it or leave it" - her April fool          Was masterful in his wooing.         He gave her the flower - she gave him a kiss -          His suit she had long been scorning;         But you never can tell what the primmest miss          Will do of a bright spring morning.