Spring

White-throat and thrush,

Aerial pilgrims,

Chant in the orchard

Plain-song of spring.

Is there in the South

Altar more beautiful

Than apple branches

Twined in reredos

Of lilac and maroon?

And now the river,

Bursting its cerements of ice

Reverberates

Gospel of resurrection.

Here, here in

April are the stairs of

Heaven