The fresh, bright bloom of the daffodils
  Makes gold in the garden bed,
Gold that is like the sunbeams
  Loitering overhead.
      Bloom, bloom
In the sun and the wind,—
April hath a fickle mind.

The budding twigs of the sweetbrier
  Stir as with hope and bliss
Under the sun’s soft glances,
  Under the wind’s...