IN APRIL
If I am slow forgetting,It is because the sunHas such old tricks of settingWhen April days are done.The soft spring sunlight tracesOld patterns—green and gold;The flowers have no new faces,The very buds are old!If I am slow forgetting—Ah, well, come back and seeThe same old sunbeams pettingMy garden-plots and me.Come smell the green things growing,The boxwood after rain;See where old beds are showingTheir slender spears again.At dusk, that fosters dreaming—Come back at dusk and rest,And watch our old star gleamingAgainst the primrose west.Harper’sMargaret Lee Ashley
If I am slow forgetting,It is because the sunHas such old tricks of settingWhen April days are done.The soft spring sunlight tracesOld patterns—green and gold;The flowers have no new faces,The very buds are old!If I am slow forgetting—Ah, well, come back and seeThe same old sunbeams pettingMy garden-plots and me.Come smell the green things growing,The boxwood after rain;See where old beds are showingTheir slender spears again.At dusk, that fosters dreaming—Come back at dusk and rest,And watch our old star gleamingAgainst the primrose west.Harper’sMargaret Lee Ashley
If I am slow forgetting,It is because the sunHas such old tricks of settingWhen April days are done.
If I am slow forgetting,
It is because the sun
Has such old tricks of setting
When April days are done.
The soft spring sunlight tracesOld patterns—green and gold;The flowers have no new faces,The very buds are old!
The soft spring sunlight traces
Old patterns—green and gold;
The flowers have no new faces,
The very buds are old!
If I am slow forgetting—Ah, well, come back and seeThe same old sunbeams pettingMy garden-plots and me.
If I am slow forgetting—
Ah, well, come back and see
The same old sunbeams petting
My garden-plots and me.
Come smell the green things growing,The boxwood after rain;See where old beds are showingTheir slender spears again.
Come smell the green things growing,
The boxwood after rain;
See where old beds are showing
Their slender spears again.
At dusk, that fosters dreaming—Come back at dusk and rest,And watch our old star gleamingAgainst the primrose west.
At dusk, that fosters dreaming—
Come back at dusk and rest,
And watch our old star gleaming
Against the primrose west.
Harper’sMargaret Lee Ashley