Near the End of April
William Stanley Braithwaite (1878-1962) Near the end of April On the verge of May— And o my heart, the woods were dusk At the close of day. Half a word was spoken Out of half a dream, And God looked in my soul and saw A dawn rise and gleam. Near the end of April Twenty Mays have met, And half a word and half a dream Remember and forget.Winter to Spring
Irvin W. Underhill (1868-1948) Did not I remember that my hair is grey With only a fringe of it left, I’d follow your footsteps from wee break of day Till night was of moon-light bereft. Your eyes wondrous fountains of joy and of youth Remind me of days long since flown, My sweetheart, I led to the altar of truth, But then the gay spring was my own. Now winter has come with its snow and its wind And made me as bare as its trees, Oh, yes, I still love, but it’s only in mind, For I’m fast growing weak at the knees. Your voice is as sweet as the song of a bird, Your manners are those of the fawn, I dream of you, darling,—oh, pardon, that word, From twilight to breaking of dawn. Your name in this missive you’ll search for in vain, Nor mine at the finis, I’ll fling, For winter must suffer the bliss and the pain In secret for loving the spring.Our share of night to bear
Emily Dickinson ( 1830-1886 ) Our share of night to bear - Our share of morning - Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning - Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way! Here a mist - and there a mist - Afterwards - Day!My Loves
Langston Hughes ( 1902-1967 ) I love to see the big white moon, A-shining in the sky; I love to see the little stars, When the shadow clouds go by. I love the rain drops falling On my roof-top in the night; I love the soft wind’s sighing, Before the dawn’s gray light. I love the deepness of the blue, In my Lord’s heaven above; But better than all these things I think, I love my lady love. More Poems @copyright 2025 InterPure
Near the End of April
William Stanley Braithwaite (1878-1962) Near the end of April On the verge of May— And o my heart, the woods were dusk At the close of day. Half a word was spoken Out of half a dream, And God looked in my soul and saw A dawn rise and gleam. Near the end of April Twenty Mays have met, And half a word and half a dream Remember and forget.Winter to Spring
Irvin W. Underhill (1868-1948) Did not I remember that my hair is grey With only a fringe of it left, I’d follow your footsteps from wee break of day Till night was of moon-light bereft. Your eyes wondrous fountains of joy and of youth Remind me of days long since flown, My sweetheart, I led to the altar of truth, But then the gay spring was my own. Now winter has come with its snow and its wind And made me as bare as its trees, Oh, yes, I still love, but it’s only in mind, For I’m fast growing weak at the knees. Your voice is as sweet as the song of a bird, Your manners are those of the fawn, I dream of you, darling,—oh, pardon, that word, From twilight to breaking of dawn. Your name in this missive you’ll search for in vain, Nor mine at the finis, I’ll fling, For winter must suffer the bliss and the pain In secret for loving the spring.Our share of night to bear
Emily Dickinson ( 1830-1886 ) Our share of night to bear - Our share of morning - Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning - Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way! Here a mist - and there a mist - Afterwards - Day!My Loves
Langston Hughes ( 1902-1967 ) I love to see the big white moon, A-shining in the sky; I love to see the little stars, When the shadow clouds go by. I love the rain drops falling On my roof-top in the night; I love the soft wind’s sighing, Before the dawn’s gray light. I love the deepness of the blue, In my Lord’s heaven above; But better than all these things I think, I love my lady love. More Poems @copyright 2025 InterPure
