[APRIL]
Oh, April brings the cuckoo-bird, and April
brings the rain,
April hangs a hundred sunny raindrops in the
lane,
She can wash the sky with woolly clouds of
purest white,
And gaily dress it up in rainbows, curving out
of sight.
Oh, April hangs the chestnut trees with spires
of white and pink,
And kisses all the primroses along the river’s
brink,
She peeps into the tiny nests where eggs are
hidden well,
And searches out the purple violets growing in
the dell.
Oh, April swings the apple blossom, sweet
against the sky
And chases all the bob-tail rabbits scuttling
gaily by,
She dances with the meadow cowslips, drooping
heads of gold,
Oh, April is the sweetest month that any year
can hold!
[THE SILENT POOL]
Away in the wood where it’s dark,
There’s a pool that is purplish green,
With whispering rushes around,
That murmur of things they have seen.
I once lay and listened all night,
And heard why the pool lies alone;
Not even a fairy goes near
And only the sad rushes moan.
I heard how there once lived a witch,
Who weaved wicked spells night and day,
And used the pool’s purplish deeps
For things which I wouldn’t dare say.
Then one day she vanished and went,
And never was seen any more,
But silent and still lay the pool,
And darker than ever before.
No fairy knows what the pool holds,
And none guesses what secrets lie
Hid safely away in its deeps,
But shuddering, all pass it by.