Classic and Contemporary Poetry
APRIL, by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN Poet's Biography First Line: The first of april! Yet november's haze Last Line: Is it dead autumn, or the dreaming spring? Subject(s): April | ||||||||
The first of April! yet November's haze Hangs on the wood, and blurs the hill's blue tip: The light of noon rests wanly on the strip Of sandy road, recalling leaf-laid ways, Shades stilled in death, and tender twilight days Ere Winter lifts the wind-trump to his lip. No moss is shyly seen a tuft to raise, Nor under grass a gold-eyed flower to dip; Nor sound is breathed, but haply the south west Faint rippling in the brushes of the pine, Or of the shrunken leaf dry-fluttering. Compact the village lies, a whitened line Gathered in smoke. What holds this brooding rest? Is it dead Autumn, or the dreaming Spring? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR CITY SPRING by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET ESSAY ON STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH APRIL NOT AN INVENTORY BUT A BLIZZARD by ALICE NOTLEY APRIL ONE by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER APRIL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MEMORY OF APRIL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS APRIL MORTALITY by LEONIE ADAMS THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN |
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