Aprilian

I.     Come with me where April twilights     Wigwam blue the April hills;     Where the shadows and the high lights     Swarm the woods that Springtime fills.     Tents where dwell the tribes of beauty,     Tasseled scouts whose camp-fires glow     Over leagues of wild-flower booty     Rescued from the camps of snow. II.     A thousand windflowers blowing!     They print the ways with palest pearl,     As if with raiment flowing     Here passed some glimmering girl.     A thousand bluets breaking!     They take the heart with glad surprise,     As if some wild girl waking     Looked at you with bewildered eyes.     A thousand buds and flowers,     A thousand birds and bees:     What spirit haunts the bowers!     What dream that no one sees! III.     Her kirtle is white as the wild-plum bloom,     Her girdle is pink as the crab;     Her face is sweet as a wood perfume     Or haw that the sunbeams stab.     Her boddice is green as the beetle's wing     That jewels the light o' the sun;     And the earth and the air around her sing     Wherever her mad feet run.     Her beautiful feet, that bloom and bud     And print with blossoms each place.     Oh, let us follow them into the wood     And gaze on her, face to face.