Bright April

A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music after me,
As spun foam lifted and borne on
After the wave is lost in the full sea.
A while these nights and days will burn
In song with the bright frailty of foam,
Living in light before they turn
Back to the nothingness that is their home.

Oh if I were the velvet rose
      Upon the red rose vine,
I'd climb to touch his window
      And make his casement fine.

And if I were the [little]1 bird
      That twitters on the tree,
All day I'd sing my love for him
      Till he should harken me.

But since I am a maiden
      I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
      That he has turned to sighs.

And since I am a maiden
      My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
      More red than roses blow.

Less than the cloud to the wind,
Less than the foam to the sea,
Less than the rose to the storm,
Am I to thee.

More than the star to the night,
More than the rain to the [tree]1,
More than heaven to earth
Art thou to me.

When I am dead and over me bright April
      Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
      I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
      When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
      Than you are now.

It was April when you came
 The first time to me,
And my first look in your eyes
 Was like my first look at the sea.

We have been together
 Four Aprils now
Watching for the green
 On the swaying willow bough;

Yet whenever I turn
 To your gray eyes over me,
It is as though I looked
 For the first time at the sea.

I gave my first love laughter,
      I gave my second tears,
I gave my third love silence
      Thru all the years.

My first love gave me singing,
      My second eyes to see,
[But oh, it was my third love
      Who gave my soul to me]1.

A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music after me,
As spun foam lifted and borne on
After the wave is lost in the full sea.
A while these nights and days will burn
In song with the bright frailty of foam,
Living in light before they turn
Back to the nothingness that is their home.