The glory of April’s sky, The dance of a silver cloud, The sweet rebuke of a world too gay, Is a sight that we cannot shroud.
The birds that sing in the morning light, In gold that lights the shadows dim, Bring a message bright as the sun’s own smile, So sullen we cannot swim.
Oh joyful day! the world is fled, To meet it looks like diving deep, To find the glory of life ahead, To drink the wine of love and reap!
- Joyce Kilmer