This I saw on an April day：

    Warm rain spilt from a sun-lined cloud，

    A sky-flung wave of gold at evening，

    And a cock pheasant treading a dusty path

    Shy and proud.

    And this I found in an April field：

    A new white calf in the sun at noon，

    A flash of blue in a cool moss bank，

    And tips of tulips promising flowers

    To a blue-winged loon.

    And this I tried to understand

    As I scrubbed the rust from my brightening plow：

    The movement of seed in furrowed earth，

    And a blackbird whistling sweet and clear

    From a green-sprayed bough.