Apple Blossoms

Of all the months that fill the year,
Give April's month to me,
For earth and sky are then so filled
With sweet variety.

The apple-blossoms' shower of pearl,
Though blent with rosier hue,-
As beautiful as woman's blush,
As evanescent too.

On every bough there is a bud,
In every bud a flower;
But scarcely bud or flower will last
Beyond the present hour.

Now comes a shower-cloud o'er the sky,
Then all again sunshine;
Then clouds again, but brightened with
The rainbow's coloured line.

Ay, this, this is the month for me:
I could not love a scene
Where the blue sky was always blue,
The green earth always green.

Letitia E. Landon