Vol. XIV 



APRIL, 1904. 



No. 4 



An April Morning. 



THIS moniiug when I woke I heard 

 The low, ,sweet chatter of a bird 

 Beside my window, where so long 

 I've missed the music of the song 

 That filled last summer with delight, 

 And saw a sudden, arrowy flight — 

 A flash of blue that soars and sings — 

 A bit of heaven itself on wings. 



"The bluebird has come back!" I cried. 

 And flung the window open wide. 

 I leaned across the mossy sill. 

 And heard the laughing little rill 

 That comes but once a year, and stays 

 Through the brief round of April days, 

 Then, when its banks with blooms are bright, 

 It seems to vanish in a night. 



The old spring gladness filled th'fe air. 

 I breathed it, felt it everywhere. 

 How blue the sky was! and a tint 

 Of color that was just a hint 

 Of "green things growing" greeted me 

 Along the willows by the lea, 

 And I could feel, and almost hear. 

 The quickened pulses of the year. 



A warm south wind that seemed a draught 



Of wine the sweetest ever quaffed 



Blew round me, bringing balmy smells 



That made me dream of pimpernels. 



And arbutus blooms in pinewood nooks. 



And gay wake-robins by the brooks, 



Whose heart with spring's swift joy was stirred. 



And I was happy as the bird 



— Eben B. Rexford in Home and Flowers. 



