Song

A poem by Hilaire Belloc

Inviting the influence of a young lady upon the opening year

You wear the morning like your dress
And are with mastery crown’d;
When as you walk your loveliness
Goes shining all around:
Upon your secret, smiling way
Such new contents were found,
The Dancing Loves made holiday
On that delightful ground.
Then summon April forth, and send
Commandment through the flowers;
About our woods your grace extend,
A queen of careless hours.
For O! not Vera veil’d in rain,
Nor Dian’s sacred Ring,
With all her royal nymphs in train
Could so lead on the Spring.

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