It's sprung! At last,
The spring!
Long past its due,
But who could hold a grudge
At all the months
Of snow and sludge
Now April has decided
To be April?

And lo!
The carefree birds sing in the trees,
The carefree trees sing in the ground,
The ground still wet, but hard no more,
And hardly a more splendiferous scene could be:

The green is green—
And so! At last!
The sky is sky—
And lastingly, now that the snow
Has faded fast
The fasting woods
Can feast at last on
Glorious, glorious sunlight over rain.

Oh Sol, I've missed
The way each beam
Doest fall away
As all the frisbee-flingers laugh
And scream, and flit around,
Two to a bicycle,
On this forever-spring-time day,

So very, very glad to say

That April
Has decided
To be April.