Books Bygone

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Cruel, cruel April

For my friends who are suffering through this on-again off-again spring.

Song

April, April,
Laugh they girlish laughter;
Then, the moment after,
Weep thy girlish tears!
April, that mine ears
Like a lover greetest,
If I tell thee, sweetest,
All my hopes and fears,
April, April,
Laugh thy golden laughter,
But the moment after,
Weep thy golden tears!
--William Watson (1858-1935)

Found while looking for another poem about April in The New Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918 (New Edition), Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. Oxford University Press, New York, 1955 (first published 1900).

1 comment:

Be nice. Nothing inappropriate, please.