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Poem by Bliss Carman


The Soul of April


Over the wintry threshold
    Who comes with joy today, 
So frail, yet so enduring,
    To triumph o'er dismay?

Ah, quick her tears are springing,
    And quickly they are dried, 
For sorrow walks before her,
    But gladness walks beside.

She comes with gusts of laughter, --
    The music as it rills; 
With tenderness and sweetness,
    The wisdom of the hills.

Her hands are strong to comfort,
    Her heart is quick to heed; 
She knows the signs of sadness,
    She knows the voice of need;

There is no living creature,
    However poor or small, 
But she will know its trouble,
    And hearken to its call.

Oh, well they fare forever,
    By mighty dreams possessed, 
Whose hearts have lain a moment
    On that eternal breast.



Bliss Carman


Bliss Carman's other poems:
  1. Dust of the Street
  2. In Gold Lacquer
  3. Threnody for a Poet
  4. Behind the Arras
  5. Triumphalis


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