Wind of the East,
Flow’r-footed breeze,
O take my love to the budding trees!
To the cypress take it, and take it too
To the tender nurs’lings of meadows and leas.
To the basil take it, messenger breeze,
And I send it, my love, to you.
So glad am I of the new found sun
I believe I could kiss the tavern door;
Why I could sweep the tavern floor
With the lashes of my eyes.
O April skies!  The winter’s done,
O April skies!  The Spring’s begun,
And honey humming,
Summer’s coming close behind.
O April skies!  Even the tavern girl is kind.