The Poetry Corner

The April Boughs

By Theodosia Garrison

It was not then her heart broke-- That moment when she knew That all her faith held holiest Was utterly untrue. It was not then her heart broke-- That night of prayer and tears When first she dared the thought of life Through all the empty years. But when beneath the April boughs She felt the blossoms stir, The careless mirth of yesterday Came near and smiled at her. Old singing lingered in the wind, Old joy came close again, Oh, underneath the April boughs, I think her heart broke then.