Explore "An April Morning" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Once more in misted April / The world is growing green. / Along the winding river / The plumey willows lean.
Beyond the sweeping meadows / The looming mountains rise, / Like battlements of dreamland / Against the brooding skies.
In every wooded valley / The buds are breaking through, / As though the heart of all things / No languor ever knew.
The golden-wings and bluebirds / Call to their heavenly choirs. / The pines are blued and drifted / With smoke of brushwood fires.
And in my sister's garden / Where little breezes run, / The golden daffodillies / Are blowing in the sun.