Sara Teasdale’s “April” begins with a light, fresh spring scene: rain-washed roofs gleaming, sparrows twittering as they fly, and small clouds drifting past with a breezy ease. But then the speaker looks down at the back-yards, which are still bare and brown, with only one unchanging tree. The outward signs of spring are thin and uncertain. What convinces her is not the landscape but an inward stirring—spring “sings in me.” The mood is quiet and thoughtful, balancing gentle observation with a private sense of renewal. It suggests that hope and the feeling of new life can come from within, even when the world outside has not quite caught up. The speaker trusts her own inner change more than the visible evidence, making April feel like a state of heart as much as a time of year.
April — Summary
The roofs are shining from the rain, The sparrows twitter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by.
Yet the back-yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree-- I could not be so sure of Spring Save that it sings in me.