APRIL
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April hieth, April spieth
Everywhere. a lover lieth,
Bringeth sweetness, bringeth fever,
Will not stop at "I would liever,"
Will not heed, "Now God a mercy!"
Turneth Moral topsy-versy,
Bringeth he and she to bed,
Bringeth ill to maidenhead,
Bringeth joyance in its stead.—STEPHEN VINCENT BENET, For City Spring
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In April Rome was founded; Shakespeare died;
The shot whose sound rang out from Concord town
And brought an avalanche of echoes down,
Shaking all thrones of tyranny and pride,
Was fired in April; Sumter far and wide
Lifted a voice the years will never drown;
'Twas April when they laid the martyr's crown
On Lincoln's brow.—SAMUEL V. COLE, In April
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And not a girl goes walking
Along the Cotswold lanes
But knows men's eyes in April
Are quicker than their brains.—JOHN DRINKWATER, Cotswold Love
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The first day of April, you may send a fool whither you will.—Proverb
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April borrows three days of March, and they are ill.—Proverb
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O! how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day!—SHAKESPEARE, The Two Gentlemen of Verona
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May never was the month of love,
For May is full of flowers;
But rather April, wet by kind,
For love is full of showers.—ROBERT SOUTHWELL, Love's Servile Lot
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April, April,
Laugh thy girlish laughter;
Then, the moment after,
Weep thy girlish tears.—WILLIAM WATSON, Song
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