O TARDY April, is thy full choir here? The redbreast, picket of the swarming spring, Whistles a sudden chirrup of alarm Before his level flight; and soft at eve His melody, on grass half-robin high, Falls like a vesper's throbbings from aloft. The sparrow tempts the turf to faster growth With her coy nesting, while her happy mate, High in the promise-reddened maple-top, O'er-bubbles with ecstasies of hoarded song. The mellow tunings of the oriole's flute, Rich as his coat, foretell his summer joy And pitch the key of gladness for the year. Here is the bluebird, best of mates and sires, And pewee, restless as a lover's fear, With cousin phoebe, bleating tearfully. The humblebee, that, nectar-drunk, shall soon Linger within the sybaritic flower, Feeds his impatience at the cautious bud; And from the furrow's wet and windy reach, Where March but lately swung his icy scythe, Ripples the velvet air about the cheek, Laden with faintest chorusings, as though The brimming silence overflowed in sound. O tardy April, is the full choir here? Alas for me! thou hast forgot to bring Out of the South one childish, bird-like voice, Whose absence doth delay the year, and makes My songs and thine but preludes till she come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ADMIRER by CLAUDIA EMERSON FABLE: THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON COUNT THAT DAY LOST by MARY ANN EVANS THE SORROW OF LOVE (2) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY - 1918 by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS |