So beautiful it is, this April dusk, This quiet twilight after wistful rain, That everything is breathless, lest it stir The mystery that haunts this meadow lane. A hush is clinging to the hallowed air. I hear the murmur of the looms of Spring. I see the testament of leaf and grass; And glory lurk in every simple thing! Until I think, within this wistful dusk, Within this miracle of bud and tree, Heaven must be a land of haunted lanes, Where April blossoms out eternally! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET (ON AN OLD BOOK WITH UNCUT LEAVES) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE CAP AND BELLS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A REPLY TO AN IMITATION OF THE SECOND ODE OF HORACE by RICHARD BENTLEY AFTER THEATER by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. NOT OF MYSELF by EDWARD CARPENTER PLAINS BORN by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. |