Snow in April. O foolish bud, to blow At first faint smile of Spring, Perfuming all the air ! O foolish bird, to sing, And build a nest that all may spy ; Your young of cold and want will die Beneath the branches bare. How sad and silent now The tuneful April grove ! Its colour, melody and love All lost beneath the snow ; The fair and flowery April grove, With all its birds in pair. O foolish heart, beware ! Nor, unforeseeing, (Lured by a yearned-for bliss— A smile, a kiss), Barter sweet hopes of youth and youth’s well-being, To build and blossom in a leafless bower, With April bird and flower, Lest Love take wing amid the falling snows— Oh, wait for summer shade and perfumed rose ! C. M. Gemmer.