April had covered the hills With flickering yellows and reds, The sparkle and coolness of snow Was blown from the mountain beds.
Across a deep-sunken stream The pink of blossoming trees, And from windless appleblooms The humming of many bees.
The air was of rose and gold Arabesqued with the song of birds Who, swinging unseen under leaves, Made music more eager than words.
Of a sudden, aslant the road, A brightness to dazzle and stun, A glint of the bluest blue, A flash from a sapphire sun.
Blue-birds so blue, 't was a dream, An impossible, unconceived hue, The high sky of summer dropped down Some rapturous ocean to woo.
Such a colour, such infinite light! The heart of a fabulous gem, Many-faceted, brilliant and rare. Centre Stone of the earth's diadem! . . . . . Centre Stone of the Crown of the World, "Sincerity" graved on your youth! And your eyes hold the blue-bird flash, The sapphire shaft, which is truth.