April with her fleet, sweet,
Silver rain, and sun-rays,
Cometh, and her feet beat
Lightly, on the lawn.
Softly, for her sake, break
Flowering the wet boughs;
By the brimming lake, wake
Lilies every dawn.
Broken on the stream, gleam
Rays, to drown where weeds wave;
Shining with her dream, seem
April's eyes bedewed.
Shakes a silver chain, rain
Chiming with her music;
Life, that long hath lain slain
Riseth up renewed.
Softly as a dove, Love
Croons beneath the twilight;
While the winds above move
Softly through the night.
Out of all the skies, dies
Light, and only stars shine:
Stars to me her wise eyes,
And her face a light.