April

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.