I missed the soft, gentle rains of April.
I did not hear the robin nestlings
Calling for their daily fare.
I did not see the early violets
Gentle Lord, Oh Prince of Peace,
Grant that soon all wars will cease.
Listen to the children crying.
Listent to the grown folks sighing.
A lovely sight, when cold winds blow,
Are downy flakes of falling snow
Which deck the earth with glist'ning gems,
And crowns it with a diadem.
The ominous sky was a stage that day.
The wind controlled the curtain of clouds
That hid the stage from view.
We could not see the strange ballet