First World War Poetry Digital Archive

April

APRIL by EDWARD THOMAS

The sweetest thing, I thought At one time, between earth and heaven Was the first smile When mist has been forgiven And the sun has stolen out, Peered, and resolved to shine at seven On dabbled lengthening grasses, Thick primroses and early leaves uneven, When earth's breath, warm and humid, far surpasses The richest oven's, and loudly rings 'cuckoo' And sharply the nightingale's 'tsoo, tsoo, tsoo, tsoo'; To say 'God bless it' was all that I could do.

But now I know one sweeter By far since the day Emily Turned weeping back To me, still happy me, To ask forgiveness,--- Yet smiled with half a certainty To be forgiven,---for what She had never done; I knew not what it might be, Nor could she tell me, having now forgot, By rapture carried with me past all care As to an isle in April lovelier Than April's self. 'God bless you' I said to her.

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