pril Days
Days of witchery.
Nature is waking up
Sending forth her beautiful sound,
And the woodpeckers',
And through the wood the shy wind steals!
Springtime
When springtime comes upon us
Filling freshness in the air
Showing natures own beauty
With flowers blooming everywhere.
Nights when the wood frogs faintly peep
Once-twice-and then are still.
The grass starts turning greener
Pushing up out of the ground,
When every hell anstree finds heart;s warm rays
Start the birds to singing
Touching our hearts in these ways.
Trees start slowly budding
Opening to the sun',
Rich with the pine and the poplar smell,
When witer and spring like lovers meet
In the mist of noon and part---
In the April days,
And the joyous earth like a dancer reels-
Through the April days; martial voices sweep
Like bugle notes from hill to hill-
Through the pulseless haze
Days when the soil is warm with rain,subtly sweet
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