Throughout the vale again Narcissus cries
And Echo answers from her dark retreat,
While Zephyr heavy-laden with the sweet,
Fresh scent of blooms across the pasture hies;
Above, the blueness of the April skies,
Matched by the lure unto the wandering feet
That e'er must go ere Spring could be complete
To the green wood where laughing Eros lies.
O April lover, hear the pipes that call,
The pipes of Pan a-blowing lustily,
They call to you and me, and he who hears
Must ever after be Young April's thrall —
So, faring thus together, we shall see
The Islands of the Blest between the Spheres!