Once more the golden April; Gold are the willow-trees, And golden the soft murmur Of the gold-belted bees. All golden is the sunshine, And golden are the flowers, The golden-wing makes music In the long, golden hours. All dull gold are the marshes And red gold are the dunes, And gold the pollen dust is Moting the quiet noons. Even the sea's great sapphire Is paneled with raw gold. How else were spring unperished, A thousand ages old? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 93 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AN EPIGRAM ON SCOLDING by JONATHAN SWIFT HOARFROST by STELLA PFEIFFER BAISCH LINES ON THE COTTAGE AT THE FOOT OF BOX HILL, SURREY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THREE SONGS OF LOVE (CHINESE FASHION): 2. RIVER SONG by WILLIAM A. BEATTY |