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April — North Carolina

Harriet Monroe

Would you not be in Tryon
 Now that the spring is here,
When mocking-birds are praising
 The fresh, the blossomy year?
Look — on the leafy carpet
 Woven of winter's browns
Iris and pink azaleas
 Flutter their gaudy gowns.
The dogwood spreads white meshes —
 So white and light and high —
To catch the drifting sunlight
 Out of the cobalt sky.
The pointed beech and maple,
 The pines, dark-tufted, tall,
Pattern with many colors
 The mountain's purple wall.
Hark — what a rushing torrent
 Of crystal song falls sheer!
Would you not be in Tryon
 Now that the spring is here?

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