Came April, and beneath her feet the cloud
Broke into song upon our silent hills;
Primroses wakened, thirsty daffodils
Tossed up their golden cups, a merry crowd:
Then visibly beneath his cold grey shroud
Helvellyn moved to hear the cuckoo-thrills
Make echo down the valley; danced the rills,
The Greta sounded glad, Lodore was loud.
For joy the lambs leapt whitely thro' the grass,
With jewels of the sloe the hedge was pearled,
And golden shone the coltsfoot in the lane;
No foot, no heart, but did the merrier pass,
For April's tears had wrought another world
Wherein was life and laughter after pain.