XXIV.
’T’TIS April, yet the wind retains its tooth.I cannot venture in the biting air,But sit and feign wild trash, and dreams uncouth,“Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair.”And when the day has howled itself to sleep,The lamp is lighted in my little room;And lowly, as the tender lapwings creep,Comes my own mother, with her love’s perfume.O living sons with living mothers! learnTheir worth, and use them gently, with no chidingFor youth, I know, is quick; of temper sternSometimes; and apt to blunder without guiding.So was I long, but now I see her move,Transfigured in the radiant mist of love.
’T’TIS April, yet the wind retains its tooth.I cannot venture in the biting air,But sit and feign wild trash, and dreams uncouth,“Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair.”And when the day has howled itself to sleep,The lamp is lighted in my little room;And lowly, as the tender lapwings creep,Comes my own mother, with her love’s perfume.O living sons with living mothers! learnTheir worth, and use them gently, with no chidingFor youth, I know, is quick; of temper sternSometimes; and apt to blunder without guiding.So was I long, but now I see her move,Transfigured in the radiant mist of love.
’T’TIS April, yet the wind retains its tooth.I cannot venture in the biting air,But sit and feign wild trash, and dreams uncouth,“Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair.”And when the day has howled itself to sleep,The lamp is lighted in my little room;And lowly, as the tender lapwings creep,Comes my own mother, with her love’s perfume.O living sons with living mothers! learnTheir worth, and use them gently, with no chidingFor youth, I know, is quick; of temper sternSometimes; and apt to blunder without guiding.So was I long, but now I see her move,Transfigured in the radiant mist of love.
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