Famous April Quotes

A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew, A cloud, and a rainbow's warning, Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue-- An April day in the morning.
-- Harriet Prescott Spofford

Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
-- John Greenleaf Whittier

April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.
-- T S Eliot

April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter, Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears!
-- Sir William Watson

Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, fetches, oats, and pease; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatched with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, Which spongy April at thy hest betrims To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lasslorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard, Where thou thyself dost air--the queen o' th' sky, Whose wat-ry arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain. Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
-- William Shakespeare

Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.
-- Susan Coolidge

For April sobs while these are so glad April weeps while these are so gay,-- Weeps like a tired child who had, Playing with flowers, lost its way.
-- Helen Hunt Jackson

From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him; Yet nor the lays of birds, not the sweet smell Of different flowers in odor and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seemed it winter still, and you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.
-- William Shakespeare

I love the season well When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming of storms.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Make me over, Mother April, When the sap begins to stir! When thy flowery hand delivers All the mountain-prisoned rivers, And thy great heart beats and quivers, To revive the days that were.
-- Richard Hovey

Now the noisy winds are still; April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter! . . . . All things ready with a will, April's coming up the hill!
-- Mary Mapes Dodge

Oh, the lovely fickleness of an April day!
-- William Hamilton Gibson

Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May New blooming blossoms 'neath the sun are born, And all poor April's charms are swept away.
-- John Clare

She who from April dates her years, Diamonds should wear, lest bitter tears For vain repentance flow; this stone, Emblem of innocence is known.
-- Unattributed Author

Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparelled April on the heel Of limping Winter treads, even such delight Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night Inherit at my house.
-- William Shakespeare

Sweet April showers Do bring May flowers.
-- Thomas Tusser

Sweet April! many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
-- Alexander Smith

Sweet April-time--O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys Of vanished springs, like flowers.
-- Dinah Maria Mulock

The April winds are magical, And thrill our tuneful frames; The garden-walks are passional To bachelors and dames.
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson