Poem by William Henry Davies

Laughing Rose

If I were gusty April now,
  How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
  And all her hair come loose.

If I were merry April now,
  How I would pelt her cheeks with showers;
I'd make carnations, rich and warm,
  Of her vermilion flowers.

Since she will laugh in April's face,
  No matter how he rains or blows--
Then O that I wild April were,
  To play with laughing Rose.

1. Poor Kings
2. The Old Oak Tree
3. Seeking Joy
4. The Starved
5. Love and the Muse

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