IN APRIL
If I am slow forgetting,
It is because the sun
Has such old tricks of setting
When April days are done.
The soft spring sunlight traces
Old patterns—green and gold;
The flowers have no new faces,
The very buds are old!
If I am slow forgetting—
Ah, well, come back and see
The same old sunbeams petting
My garden-plots and me.
Come smell the green things growing,
The boxwood after rain;
See where old beds are showing
Their slender spears again.
At dusk, that fosters dreaming—
Come back at dusk and rest,
And watch our old star gleaming
Against the primrose west.
Harper’s Margaret Lee Ashley