Poems (Hinchman)/When April pipes on every hill

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Sweet Sappho, that hast gather'd purple flowers

When April pipes on every hill

If thou woulds see, O man, the glory shed

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4616530Poems — When April pipes on every hillAnne Hinchman

XIV APRIL

When April pipes on every hill The lays that cleave the heart of Spring, Making the woods and meadows ringWith music Winter's frown did still,Fair blossoms nod o'er every rill And cast their brown leaves' covering,When April pipes on every hill.

And now each heart doth feel the thrill The morning's lovely light doth bring:At the door of Dreams the sweet birds' trill Calls all to leave their slumbering; Till our feet move, and our lips sing The lays that cleave the heart of Spring,When April pipes on every hill.