The Call Of April

April calling, April calling,     April calling me!     I hear the voice of April there     In each old apple tree:     Bee-boom and wild perfume,     And wood-brook melody,     O hark, my heart, and hear, my heart,     The April Ecstasy!     Hark to the hills, the oldtime hills,     That talk with sea and sky!     Or speak in murmurs with God's winds     Who on their bosoms lie:     Bird-call and waterfall     And white clouds blowing by,     O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,     The April's cosmic cry!     There runs a whisper through the woods,     The word of bough to bough,     A sound of dead things donning green,     Of Beauty waking now:     Fern-bower and wilding flower,     Each like a prayer or vow,     O see, my heart, O look, my heart,     Where Earth crowns white her brow!     And far away, and far away,     Yet nearer than she seems,     Look where she takes the oldtime trail     And walks again with dreams:     Bird note and blue remote     And laughter of wild streams,     O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,     And follow where she gleams!     Earth has put off her winter garb     Of gray and drab and dun,     And robes herself in raiment green     Of love and laughter spun:     Wood-bloom and wood-perfume     And colors of the sun,     O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,     Where her wild footsteps run!     O April, mother of my soul,     Take to your heart your child:     And let him lie a little while     Upon its rapture wild:     Lean close and near, and let him hear     The words that once beguiled,     And on his eyes the kiss again     Of longing reconciled.     O kiss, that fills the fields with flowers     And thrills with green each grove,     Dream down into this heart again     And grow to songs thereof:     Wild songs in singing throngs,     That swift shall mount above,     And, like to birds, with lyric words,     Take Earth and Heaven with love.