And all the wondering Aprils yet to be,
Have stored their wealth of shower and sunshine there;
Yea, all the thousand, thousand springs of earth
New-lit and re-awakened at her birth,
In her sweet body glow and glimmer fair.
O wonder of sea-colours and white foam
And April glories, to thine arms I come!
VOICE OF THE EVENING WIND: The sun is gone,
and the last, red flame
Has faded away in a shimmer of rose--