Episode 37: An April Day

AN APRIL DAY
by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

    When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
‘Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
   The first flowers of the plain.

  I love the season well
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
   The coming-on of storms.

   From the earth’s loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with the winter’s cold,
   The drooping tree revives.

   The softly warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
   The forest openings.

   When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows on the hollows of the hills,
   And wide the upland glows.

   And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o’er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn,
   And twinkles many a star.

 . . . .

  Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
   Life’s golden fruit is shed.