APRIL RAIN.
139
APRIL RAIN.
OWN from thy home of cloud and mist O fall lovingly, April rain!
Wash the gray from the amethyst,—
Melt the hearts of these lingering drifts,—
Plead till thy patient lips have kissed
The earth to its spring-life: the while thy gifts,—
Joy, hope, freshness,—thou lavishest
Wide over hill and plain!
Call to the robin, whose ruddy breast
Throbs with the joy of his first sweet strain;
Bid him put on his brightest vest,
Bid him come up in the elms and sing,—
Sing his sweetest, and flutter his best,
Till our full hearts ache with the joy of spring,—
Ache with a blissful pain oppressed,
Beautiful April rain!
Throbs with the joy of his first sweet strain;
Bid him put on his brightest vest,
Bid him come up in the elms and sing,—
Sing his sweetest, and flutter his best,
Till our full hearts ache with the joy of spring,—
Ache with a blissful pain oppressed,
Beautiful April rain!
Over tile graves of the loved asleep
O fall tenderly, April rain!
O fall tenderly, April rain!
