Hey, pretty maid! Whence comest thou,
With violets linked about thy brow,
And zone of buttercups’ own gold?
The wild, pink roses round thee fold
Their tremulous petals, pure and sweet,
And daisies faint beneath thy feet.
Fie, fie, coquette! A tear, a frown,
Dark lashes drooping shyly down,—
That bids one hope while he fears,—
The sudden laughter thro’ thy tears!
With changeful moods—Take care! Take care!
Let April’s sweethearts all beware!
See how the soft wind kisses her,
How saps leap thro’ the lusty fir,
And willows bud and bend and sigh
When her glad feet come twinkling by!
And she but laughs thro’ sparkling tears,
And kisses flings at hopes and fears.
Ah, May is fair, and June is sweet,
And August comes with loitering feet,
July’s the maid to lie and dream
Beside some blue and lilied stream….
But April’s sweetheart never yet
Could her tear-mingled smiles forget.
“April” printed in Higginson’s column “Fact and Fancy” in Portland, Oregon’s West Shore magazine. Clipping courtesy of the Ella Higginson Papers, Center for Pacific Northwest Studies, Heritage Resources, Western Washington University, Bellingham Washington.