Now the noisy winds are still; Aprils coming up the hill; All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun, and clatter, patter First the blue, and then the shower, Bursting bud, and smiling flower; Brooks set free with tinkling ring; Birds too full of song to sing; Crisp old leaves astir with pride, Where the timid violets hide All things ready with a will Aprils coming up the hill! Mary Mapes Dodge.Not the Noisy Winds are Still.
April cold with dropping rain, Willows and lilacs brings again, The whistle of returning birds, And trumpet-lowing of the herds. Emerson.Poems: May-day.