SECOND APRIL

CONTENTS:

SPRING
CITY TREES
THE BLUE-FLAG IN THE BOG
JOURNEY
EEL-GRASS
ELEGY BEFORE DEATH
THE BEAN-STALK
WEEDS
PASSER MORTUUS EST
PASTORAL
ASSAULT
TRAVEL
LOW-TIDE
SONG OF A SECOND APRIL
ROSEMARY
THE POET AND HIS BOOK
ALMS
INLAND
TO A POET THAT DIED YOUNG
WRAITH
EBB
ELAINE
BURIAL
MARIPOSA
THE LITTLE HILL
DOUBT NO MORE THAT OBERON
LAMENT
EXILED
THE DEATH OF AUTUMN
ODE TO SILENCE
MEMORIAL TO D. C.
UNNAMED SONNETS I-XII
WILD SWANS


* * * * *


SPRING

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.


* * *


CITY TREES

THE trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
As trees in country lanes.
And people standing in their shade
Out of a shower, undoubtedly
Would hear such music as is made
Upon a country tree.

Oh, little leaves that are so dumb
Against the shrieking city air,
I watch you when the wind has come,–
I know what sound is there.