April

Through the meadow April comes,

Leaving, as he passes,

Companies of daffodils

All among the grasses.

Tulips round about the door,

Ranged in martial order;

Violets in sweet array,

Up and down the border.

And beside the lily-pond,

Mindful of its sleepers,

Guards of light frittillaries,

For its fairy keepers.

Sow your fine chrysanthemums

While he blithely passes,

Dahlias too, and thrift, to blow

All among your grasses.