All On An April Morning.

    The teacher was wise and learned, I wis,
    All nonsense she held in scorning,
    But you never can tell what the primmest miss
    Will do of a bright spring morning.

    What this one did was to spread a snare
    For feet of a youth unheeding,
    As March, with a meek and lamb-like air,
    To its very last hour was speeding.

    Oh, he was the dullard of his class,
    For how can a youth get learning
    With his eyes aye fixed on a pretty lass
    And his heart aye filled with yearning?

    "Who finds 'mong the rushes which fringe a pool,"
    She told him, "the first wind blossom,
    May wish what he will" - poor April fool,
    With but one wish in his bosom.

    Her gray eyes danced - on a wild-goose chase
    He'd sally forth on the morrow,
    And, later, she'd laugh in his sombre face,
    And jest at his words of sorrow.

    But penitence and a troubled mind
    Were fruits of the night's reflection;
    After all, he was simple, and strong, and kind -
    'Twas wrong to flout his affection.

    They met on the hill as she walked to school;
    He said, unheeding her blushes,
    "Here's the early flower your April fool
    Found growing among the rushes.

    "Take it or leave it as you will" -
    His voice ringing out so clearly
    Awoke in her heart a happy thrill -
    "You know that I love you dearly."

    Day-dreams indulged as she taught the school
    Held lovers kneeling and suing;
    "Take it or leave it" - her April fool
    Was masterful in his wooing.

    He gave her the flower - she gave him a kiss -
    His suit she had long been scorning;
    But you never can tell what the primmest miss
    Will do of a bright spring morning.