Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1921/Acquaintance
ACQUAINTANCE
All that we know of April is her way
Of coming on the world through gentle springs,
Turning the hedge a whitening line of spray,
Staining the grass with shivered, golden things.
She has a way of rain against the sun,
Of moonlit orchards, ghostly white and still,
And the slow, silver coming, one by one,
Of burning stars above a purple hill.
Of coming on the world through gentle springs,
Turning the hedge a whitening line of spray,
Staining the grass with shivered, golden things.
She has a way of rain against the sun,
Of moonlit orchards, ghostly white and still,
And the slow, silver coming, one by one,
Of burning stars above a purple hill.
And this is all we know of such as she,
These shining names she leaves for us to call:
The whitening hedge, the showery apple tree,
And golden jonquils gathering by a wall. . . .
All that we know of April is her way,
And these bright legends we have learned to say.
These shining names she leaves for us to call:
The whitening hedge, the showery apple tree,
And golden jonquils gathering by a wall. . . .
All that we know of April is her way,
And these bright legends we have learned to say.
The NationDavid Morton