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Later
Poems
by
Bliss Carman
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The
Soul of April
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OVER
the wintry threshold
Who comes with joy to-day,
So frail, yet so enduring,
To triumph o’er dismay?
Ah, quick her tears are springing,
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And
quickly they are dried,
For sorrow walks before her,
But gladness walks beside.
She comes with gusts of laughter,—
The music as of rills;
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With
tenderness and sweetness,—
The wisdom of the hills.
Her hands are strong to comfort,
Her heart is quick to heed.
She knows the signs of sadness,
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knows the voice of need.
There is no living creature,
However poor or small,
But she will know its trouble,
And hasten to its call.
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Oh, well they fare forever,
By mighty dreams possessed,
Whose hearts have lain a moment
On that eternal breast.
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