April’s genial sun is shining,
Vernal clouds with “silver lining,”
Rich and balmy dews distilling,
Flora’s opening flower-cups filling
With the pearly treasure;
On her robe of freshest green,
Thousand flow’ry gems are seen
Peeping through the tender grass;
By woodland path and mountain pass
Now we stray with pleasure.
Sweet the tender, tuneful notes
Poured from thousand warbling throats;
Sweet the tale of truth and love,
Softly told by cushat-dove
In his amorous cooing.
Sweet the music of the streams,
Where the poet strays and dreams—
Where the incense he receives,
Of bursting buds and tender leaves,
While the Muses wooing.
Now, sweet Spring, my song must fail;
Other sounds and sights assail—
Sounds of cheers that swelling rise
In one vast p
(Janet Hamilton)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Spring Poems, Truth Poems, Literature Poems, Music Poems, Pleasure Poems, Poets PoemsBased on Keywords: dreams-, cushat-dove