Through the meadow April comes,
Leaving, as he passes,
Companies of daffodils
All among the grasses.
Tulips round about the door,
Ranged in martial order;
Violets in sweet array,
Up and down the border.
And beside the lily-pond,
Mindful of its sleepers,
Guards of light frittillaries,
For its fairy keepers.
Sow your fine chrysanthemums
While he blithely passes,
Dahlias too, and thrift, to blow
All among your grasses.