C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Lizette Woodworth Reese (1856–1935)

OH hush, my heart, and take thine ease,

For here is April weather!

The daffodils beneath the trees

Are all a-row together.

The thrush is back with his old note;

The scarlet tulip blowing;

And white—ay, white as my love’s throat—

The dogwood boughs are growing.

The lilac bush is sweet again;

Down every wind that passes,

Fly flakes from hedgerow and from lane;

The bees are in the grasses.

And Grief goes out, and Joy comes in,

And Care is but a feather;

And every lad his love can win:

For here is April weather.