THERE is a holiness about an April day -- A blaze of consecrated light. Like rising altar smoke the mists are slowly cleared, Leaving the heavens white. There is a stateliness in April's silver rain Like priestesses; a purity In wet dawn fields where cherry blossoms are unfurled That cleans and brightens me. There is a holiness about an April day; A whispered prayer among the oak. . . @3O burn me with the terrible loveliness one hour Of all these gallant folk!@1 |