The First of April Now if to be an April-fool Is to delight in the song of the thrush, To long for the swallow in air's blue hollow, And the nightingale's riotous music-gush, And to paint a vision of cities Elysian Out away in the sunset-flush — Then I grasp my flagon and swear thereby, We are April-fools, my Love and I.
And if to be an April-fool Is to feel contempt for iron and gold, For the shallow fame at which most men aim — And to turn from worldlings cruel and cold To God in his splendor, loving and tender, And to bask in his presence manifold — Then by all the stars in his infinite sky, We are April-fools, my Love and I. by Mortimer Collins

















