Laughing Rose

If I were gusty April now, How I would blow at laughing Rose; I'd make her ribbons slip their knots, And all her hair come loose. If I were merry April now, How I would pelt her cheeks with showers; I'd make carnations, rich and warm, Of her vermilion flowers. Since she will laugh in April's face, No matter how he rains or blows-- Then O that I wild April were, To play with laughing Rose.