April Weather

away into Wenlock Town, Where the broom is yellow as gold. And you plucked the boughs from the hawthorn tree As full as your arms could hold. And show me the tender trysting place Under the aspen tree, Where the aspen whispered as you went by Its pitiful prophecy. Take me away from these noisy streets, These crowds of hurrying men, Let me come to you for an hour And walk with you again! MY SHIP It's I stand watching, watching across the waters gray, Where the old, old ships come slowly home and the young ships sail away. Where the old, old ships come slowly home, borne on the tireless sea, But when will the little ship I sent come sailing back to me? Never you saw a ship so fair, with her colors flying far, And the curving swell of her wind-filled sails as white as the breakers are. Straight she rode in her gallant pride, breasting the windy dawn, And I watched with eyes that were hot with tears the way that my ship had gone. The days are long, and the nights are drear, but I've taken Hope for my friend, And we wait in the curve of the harbor bay till the voyage shall have an end; We wait in the curve of the harbor bay?never our hearts shall tire, Better the sight of eyes that see than wandering of desire! Slowly the old, old ships loom up on the far horizon's line, But I give them never a second glance, for none of these ships is mine. It's the little ship that I'm l...