23 APRIL 1887, Page 14

POETR Y.

A RAINLESS APRIL.

COME, April, come with gift of smile and tears, Not with thine eyes unable thus to weep,— Haat thou no store of sorrow from the deep To loose and laugh through, as in former years P Come, let Lodore make music for our ears, And rouse Helvellyn from his winter sleep, Hang rainbow glories from the sunny steep, And shroud at night with dew the glittering spheres.

For now the mountain faces, faint and pale For lack of thy revivifying band, Swoon on beyond their time, expressionless.

And now the flocks are milkless in the dale, The cuckoo calls not, and the larches stand Without a heart to don their jewelled dress.

H. D. R.