44 I sometimes think * . that every Hyacinth the Garden wears 

 Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head*** 



OMAR KHAYYAM. 



APRIL 



Shade and shine of changing light, 

 Wakes a bud and blossom bright ; 

 Smiles amid the hawthorn grey, 

 Tender leaves of green to-day. 

 April-tide, the earliest Spring, 

 Bids each bird awake and sing : 

 " Spring is here ! Joy is near ! 

 April wakes the glad young year ! ' 



Smile and tear on April's face, 

 Lends to her a winsome grace, 

 When the trumpet daffodil, 

 With a herald-music fill, 

 Daisying meadows, emerald wood, 

 With a joyous song of good : 

 " Spring is here ! Joy is near ! 

 April wakes the glad young year ! ' 



