April-lover

April-lover, let us seek together
Yon green slope beneath the summit snows,
Footing blithely through the crystal weather
Toward the spot where the arbutus blows!

April-lover, hear the lyric valley
Shouting all the vernal cries of earth! —
Voice of brooks, and tongues of winds that rally,
The sweet bird-recessional of mirth.

April-lover, see the mounting splendor
Of the sunshine marching on before!
Mark the budding colors, twilight-tender,
Revelling by rill and river shore!

April-lover, scent the subtle attar, —
Finer than from flowers of orient dye, —
That the lavish courier-breezes scatter
As they journey up and down the sky!

April-lover, ah, my April-lover,
I at heart am with you when you say,
There's no time like that when we discover
Spring upon her olden, golden way!