An April Allegro.
When the rooks within the elm1
’Gin to build their windy realm,2
While the boughs still etch the sky-line sharp and dark ;3
When a faint green filmy mist,4
Pale as palest amethyst,5
Weaves a fine web o’er the beech’s rugged bark ;6
Then I know, ah, then I know,7
When the melting of the snow8
Every mountain brook is filling,9
And a vague new life is thrilling10
Underneath the budding hedges,11
And the yellow river sedges,12
That the Spring is coming, coming back again,13
That the Spring is coming, coming to her English home again.14
When across the April rain15
As it whips the shivering plain,16
There are tearful gleams of sunshine bright and sweet ;17
When a wind comes from the south,18
With warm kisses on its mouth,19
And the east wind and the west wind seem to meet ;20
Then I know, ah, then I know,21
When I hear the west wind blow,22
And the south wind in its coming23
Makes a rhythmical low humming,24
That the Spring is coming, coming back again,25
That the Spring is coming, coming to her Northern home again.26
When the cuckoo, lucky rover,27
Makes his magic passage over28
Viewless pathways from the citron groves of Spain,29
And his song goes calling, calling,30
Where the forest brooks are falling,31
And the valleys love the echo to retain ;32
Then I know, ah, then I know,33
When the bird to birds a foe34
Mourns his own unfriended lot35
To the winds that heed him not,36
That the Spring is coming, coming back again,37
That the Spring is coming, coming to her English home again.38
Landscape of a stream surrounded by trees. A black bird walks on the edge of the stream.
Full
page.
Then at last, one April dawn,39
High above the glimmering lawn,40
While the first faint fires are scattering the dark ;41
Lo, I hear a buoyant note42
On the dewy dusk afloat,43
And I catch the first fine preludes of the lark ;44
Then I know, ah, then I know,45
When I hear that glad song flow,46
That the sweet of all the year47
In a little will be here,48
And the Spring is coming, coming back again,49
And the Spring is coming, coming to her Northern home again,50
To the weary hearts that wait her in her English home again.51