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C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
 
April
 
        Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
W. H. Gibson.    
  1
        Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn
  Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May
New blooming blossoms ’neath the sun are born,
And all poor April’s charms are swept away.
Clare.    
  2
        The children with the streamlets sing,
  When April stops at last her weeping;
And every happy growing thing
  Laughs like a babe just roused from sleeping.
Lucy Larcom.    
  3
        There is no glory in star or blossom
  Till looked upon by a loving eye;
There is no fragrance in April breezes
  Till breathed with joy as they wander by.
Bryant.    
  4
        Again the blackbirds sing; the streams
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams,
And tremble in the April showers
The tassels of the maple flowers.
Whittier.    
  5
                            When April winds
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up,
Opened in airs of June her multitude
Of golden chalices to humming birds
And silken-wing’d insects of the sky.
Bryant.    
  6
        Sweet April! many a thought
  Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
  Life’s golden fruit is shed.
Longfellow.    
  7
        Every tear is answered by a blossom,
  Every sigh with songs and laughter blent,
Apple-blooms upon the breezes toss them,
  April knows her own, and is content.
Susan Coolidge.    
  8
 
 
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