Classic Poem

April!
Bird-notes in a gust of rain,
Silver trumpets shivering
Spring's steel armament again —
Hear the world's blood mount and sing
Sweetly on the flowery plain!

April!
Withers all the grass and dies,
Here the flowers dull and fade —
How shall cities know her guise?
See this new-met man and maid
Tremble at each other's eyes!