THE fresh, bright bloom of the daffodils Makes gold in the garden bed, Gold that is like the sunbeams Loitering overhead. Bloom, bloom In the sun and the wind, -- April hath a fickle mind. The budding twigs of the sweetbrier Stir as with hope and bliss Under the sun's soft glances, Under the wind's sly kiss. Swing, swing In the sun and the wind, -- April hath a fickle mind. May, she calls to her little ones, Her flowers hiding away, "Never put off till to-morrow What you may do to-day. Come, come Through the sun and the wind, -- April hath a fickle mind." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE by MATTHEW PRIOR CONTENT; WRITTEN OFF ITHACA by ALFRED AUSTIN ROSA MUNDI by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ADVICE TO A BLUE-BIRD by MAXWELL BODENHEIM THE FABRIC by GAMALIEL BRADFORD THE ALLIGATOR by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |