|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
| When April winds|
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multitude
Of golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-wingd insects of the sky.
|Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn|
Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May
New blooming blossoms neath the sun are born,
And all poor Aprils charms are swept away.
ClareThe Village Minstrel and Other Poems. The Last of April.
|Every tear is answered by a blossom,|
Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
Apple-blooms upon the breezes toss them.
April knows her own, and is content.
|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!
* * * * *
All things ready with a will,
Aprils coming up the hill!
Mary Mapes DodgeNow the Noisy Winds are Still.
|The April winds are magical,|
And thrill our tuneful frames;
The garden-walks are passional
To bachelors and dames.
|Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!|
W. H. GibsonPastoral Days. Spring.
|Make me over, Mother April,|
When the sap begins to stir!
When thy flowery hand delivers
All the mountain-prisoned rivers,
And thy great heart beats and quivers,
To revive the days that were.
|For April sobs while these are so glad|
April weeps while these are so gay,
Weeps like a tired child who had,
Playing with flowers, lost its way.
Helen Hunt JacksonVerses. April.
|The children with the streamlets sing,|
When April stops at last her weeping;
And every happy growing thing
Laughs like a babe just roused from sleeping.
Lucy LarcomThe Sister Months.
| 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.
LongfellowAn April Day. L. 6.
|Sweet April! many a thought|
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Lifes golden fruit is shed.
LongfellowAn April Day. St. 8.
|Sweet April-timeO cruel April-time!|
Year after year returning, with a brow
Of promise, and red lips with longing paled,
And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys
Of vanished springs, like flowers.
D. M. MulockApril.
|The first of April, some do say|
Is set apart for All Fools day;
But why the people call it so,
Nor I, nor they themselves, do know.
Poor Robins Almanac. (1760). All Fools Day.
|The lyric sound of laughter|
Fills all the April hills,
The joy-song of the crocus,
The mirth of daffodils.
Clinton ScollardApril Music.
|When well apparelld April on the heel|
Of limping winter treads.
Romeo and Juliet. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 27.
|When proud-pied April dressd in all his trim|
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
Tempest. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 65.
|Sweet Aprils tears,|
Dead on the hem of May
Alex. SmithA Life Drama. Sc. 8. L. 308.
|A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew,|
A cloud, and a rainbows warning,
Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue
An April day in the morning.
Harriet Prescott SpoffordApril.
|Sweet April showers|
Do bring May flowers.
TusserFive Hundred Points of Good Husbandry. Ch. XXXIX.
|Again the blackbirds sing; the streams|
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April showers
The tassels of the maple flowers.
WhittierThe Singer. St. 20.