Classic Poem

With one cheek tear-wet, and the other bright
With passing sunshine, beauty in her eyes;
On her green garments buds of richest dyes;
Her fair brow bound with leaflets, in the light
Winking and shining, like a timid maid,
Blushing with freshness, seeming half afraid,
Comes changeful April. Violets fill one hand;
And these she scatters o'er the vernal land.
Studding the hedge-rows by the lone sheepfold,
And hanging gems in Nature's silent bowers.
The other doth an urn of waters hold,
Which, in soft tears, she weeps upon the flowers.
Cowslip and primrose round her neck are strung,
And Spring's first notes gush sweetly from her tongue.