Madcap April

By Tudor Jenks (1857–1922)

UNMANNERED March hath many a prank

With buffetings, but yet is frank

Who deals with Mars expects but blows;

And waxing old he milder grows.

A roguish sprite of Fickle mind

Young April comes; for she doth bind

Her scanty flowers in posies sweet

To throw them slyly at our feet.

Then as we think to seize the prize,

It vanishes before our eyes;

And April’s fools, thus lured with flowers,

Are sprinkled with quick, mocking showers.