APRIL 99 



And the road runs east, and the road runs west, 



That his vagrant feet explore; 



And he knows no haste and he knows no rest, 



And every mile has a stranger zest 



Than the miles he trod before; 



And his heart leaps high in the nascent year, 



When he sees the purple buds appear: 



For he knows, though the great black frost may blight 



The hope of May in a single night, 



That the spring, though it shrink back under the bark 



But bides its time somewhere in the dark 



Though it comes not now to its blossoming, 



By the thrill in his heart he knows the spring; 



And the promise it makes perchance too soon, 



It shall keep with its roses yet in June; 



For the ages fret not over a day, 



And the greater to-morrow is on its way. 



APRIL* 



BY JOHN BURROUGHS 



From A Year in the Fields 

 IF WE represent the winter of our northern climate 

 by a rugged snow-clad mountain, and summer by 

 a broad fertile plain, then the intermediate belt, 

 the hilly and breezy uplands, will stand for spring, 

 with March reaching well up into the region of the 



* By special permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 



