John Crowe Ransom
SAVOR of love is thick on the April air,
The blunted boughs dispose their lacy bloom,
And many sorry steeds dismissed to pasture
Toss their old forelocks, flourish heavy heels.
Where is there any unpersuaded poet
So angry still against the wrongs of winter
Which caused the dainty earth to droop and die,
So vengeant for his vine and summer song,
As to decline the good releasing thaw?
Poets have temperature and follow seasons,
And covenants go out at equinox.
The champions! For Heaven, riding high
Above the icy death, considered truly;
'My agate icy work, I thought it fair;
Yet I have lacked that pretty lift of praise
That mounted once from these emaciate minstrels.
They will not sing, and duty drops away
And I must turn and make a soft amend!'
At once he showered April down, until
The bleak twigs bloom again; and soon, I swear,
He shall receive his praise.
John Crowe Ransom's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (April by John Crowe Ransom )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Very unique lovecraft!, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Whiskey, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- Lit Summers Sky, Lilly Emery
- After the Equinox, Francie Lynch
- Who Calls It That You Are Corrupt And Fa.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- Holding My Unkempt Beards, Burquawalli A.., Bijay Kant Dubey
- Prime Truth - 85, Pranab K. Chakraborty
- Prime Truth - 84, Pranab K. Chakraborty
- Evil!, Malcolm Gould
- Dreams, Malcolm Gould