April weather

Beloved, it was April weather,

When Love went down the wilding way,

The little birds on bloomy spray

Were cocking head and preening feather.

Beloved, it was April weather,

When Love went down the wilding way.

The glad brook slipped the grim frost's tether,

The red bud flushed with thoughts of May,

Beloved, it was April weather,

When Love went down the wilding way.

And thou and I, we knew not whether,

To laugh or weep, be sad or gay,

When Love went down the wilding way,

With tears and joy so close together.

Beloved, it was April weather,

When Love went down the wilding way.