MINSTREL WEATHER 



the daffodil sky in his evening play. 

 Peaceably among the lilacs the contented 

 bluebird sits, though through bulb, root, 

 and chrysalis has passed the irresistible^ 

 current that will let no sharer of the earth 

 be still not stone nor seed nor man. Into 

 this forced march April steps with glad- 

 ness, hailing the order, predestined to 

 change. Joining her unresisting, take for 

 your own the moment of escape which the 

 singer in the blossoms freely claims. Life's 

 fullness is measured by these salvaged 

 April moments when suddenly joy be- 

 comes a simple and close-dwelling thing, 

 when for a merciful, lighted instant the 

 impersonal and endless beauty of the 

 world seems enough. 



[24] 



