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| Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922. |
| April |
| 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—The Fountain. | 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—The Village Minstrel and Other Poems. The Last of April. | 2 |
| 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—April. | 3 |
| Now the noisy winds are still; April’s coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter! * * * * * All things ready with a will, April’s coming up the hill! Mary Mapes Dodge—Now the Noisy Winds are Still. | 4 |
| The April winds are magical, And thrill our tuneful frames; The garden-walks are passional To bachelors and dames. Emerson—April. | 5 |
| Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day! W. H. Gibson—Pastoral Days. Spring. | 6 |
| Make me over, Mother April, When the sap begins to stir! When thy flowery hand delivers All the mountain-prisoned rivers, And thy great heart beats and quivers, To revive the days that were. Richard Hovey—April. | 7 |
| For April sobs while these are so glad April weeps while these are so gay,— Weeps like a tired child who had, Playing with flowers, lost its way. Helen Hunt Jackson—Verses. April. | 8 |
| 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—The Sister Months. | 9 |
| I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming on of storms. Longfellow—An April Day. L. 6. | 10 |
| 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—An April Day. St. 8. | 11 |
| Sweet April-time—O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys Of vanished springs, like flowers. D. M. Mulock—April. | 12 |
| The first of April, some do say Is set apart for All Fools’ day; But why the people call it so, Nor I, nor they themselves, do know. Poor Robin’s Almanac. (1760). All Fools’ Day. | 13 |
| The lyric sound of laughter Fills all the April hills, The joy-song of the crocus, The mirth of daffodils. Clinton Scollard—April Music. | 14 |
| When well apparell’d April on the heel Of limping winter treads. Romeo and Juliet. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 27. | 15 |
| When proud-pied April dress’d in all his trim Hath put a spirit of youth in everything. Sonnet XCVIII. | 16 |
| Spongy April. Tempest. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 65. | 17 |
| Sweet April’s tears, Dead on the hem of May Alex. Smith—A Life Drama. Sc. 8. L. 308. | 18 |
| A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew, A cloud, and a rainbow’s warning, Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue— An April day in the morning. Harriet Prescott Spofford—April. | 19 |
| Sweet April showers Do bring May flowers. Tusser—Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry. Ch. XXXIX. | 20 |
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| 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—The Singer. St. 20. | 21 |
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