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...VENICE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW MUCH LOVE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER SONG OF THE DOVE by FREDRIKA BREMER A VERMONT COUNTRY STORE by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY OVER AND OVER TUNE by IOANNA CARLSEN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE by EDWARD CARPENTER LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - MAY/JULY 1811 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |