Poems (Ripley)/Woods in April
WOODS IN APRIL
Woods in April! how I love thee! Just awakened from thy sleep; When on all the trees about me Living green begins to peep.—
And the robins blithely calling To each other 'mong the trees,—Then like brown leaves, softly falling, Down they flutter through the breeze:
Running lightly o'er the mosses,— Pulling worms from out the ground, Which about each lightly tosses; Then a dart and whirring sound
Tells me they have fled to labor On their cozy nests somewhere: Near enough for them to neighbor— Both on stormy days and fair.
Woods in April! how I love thee! When spring-beauties spread a wave Of pink blossoms all about me Like a great cathedral nave.
Piled among the stumps in masses And among the roots of trees, Where each chilly breeze that passes Rocks a million bells with ease.
Dainty blossoms, how I love them! Nestling all about my feet: Each is like a lovely thought gem Crowded full of memories sweet:
Filled with memories of childhood— Full of dreamy innocence,—When within another wildwood I first saw thy countenance.
When with dimpled hands I pulled them, Tenderly, lest I should bruise Thoughtlessly, a tender flower-gem; And among them sit and muse.
Dainty harbingers of springtime, As I stoop to pull thy bells, Soundless music sends a soft chime All along the nearby dells:
Music to which fairies listen When we think that all is still.—While within the air does glisten,— Dew-like—now and then, a chill—
Though the sun smiles out so quickly— Then there comes a dash of rain, Falling on the blossoms thickly— Then a bright sunbeam again.
Woods in April! yet I linger! What a charm thou hast to hold! Thou dost call with beckoning finger And I pause in thy stronghold:
Where are violets full golden: Dog-tooth violets, and coy—Which have decked these woods full olden At each smiling April's joy.
I behold them now with gladness: Dear, old friends beneath that tree! They bring not a touch of sadness As they nod their gold at me.—
And violets in robes like snowflakes Greet me as I stroll about. And upon the April breeze shakes Fairy perfume softly out.—
Woods in April! how I love thee! Harbinger of sweet, springtime!Joy thou always bringest to me, When thou ringest out thy chime.—