| Lyrics: | April Come She Will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will
stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June, she'll change her tune,
In restless walks
she'll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her
flight.
August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September
I'll remember.
A love once new has now grown old |