The Earth Turns South/I Would Not Die in April

by Clement Richardson Wood

I WOULD NOT DIE IN APRIL

I would not die in April,
When grass and violet wake,
Nor have your spade disturb them
For my sake;

I prize too much the comfort
Of all the pallid shoots
To grub beneath their confident
Slim roots.

Oh rather in the snowtime,—
That from the newly dead
The grass may forage boldly
In my head,

And from my heart the violet
May drink, and flame a blue
Sweet message from the heart of God
To you.