I can't tell you - but you feel it - Nor can you tell me - Saints, with ravished slate and pencil Solve our April Day! Sweeter than a vanished frolic From a vanished green! Swifter than the hoofs of Horsemen Round a Ledge of dream! Modest, let us walk among it With our faces veiled - As they say polite Archangels Do in meeting God! Not for me - to prate about it! Not for you - to say To some fashionable Lady "Charming April Day"! Rather - Heaven's "Peter Parley"! By which Children slow To sublimer Recitation Are prepared to go! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS BY THE PACIFIC by HERBERT BASHFORD THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN THE LOWEST PLACE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE PROGRESS OF POETRY by JONATHAN SWIFT THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN |