"April now in Morning Clad"
April now in morning clad
Like a gleaming oread,
With the south wind in her voice,
Comes to bid the world rejoice.
With the sunlight on her brow,
Through her veil of silver showers,
April o'er New England now
Trails her robe of woodland flowers,—
Violet and anemone;
While along the misty sea,
Pipe at lip, she seems to blow
Haunting airs of long ago.
Nike
What do men give thanks for?
I give thanks for one,
Lovelier than morning,
Dearer than the sun.
Such a head the victors
Must have praised and known,
With that breast and bearing,
Nike's very own—
As superb, untrammeled,
Rhythmed and poised and free
As the strong pure sea-wind
Walking on the sea;