<p><SPAN name="THE_APRIL_BOUGHS" id="THE_APRIL_BOUGHS"></SPAN>THE APRIL BOUGHS</p>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It was not then her heart broke—</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That moment when she knew</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That all her faith held holiest</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Was utterly untrue.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It was not then her heart broke—</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That night of prayer and tears</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When first she dared the thought of life</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Through all the empty years.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But when beneath the April boughs</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">She felt the blossoms stir,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The careless mirth of yesterday</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Came near and smiled at her.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Old singing lingered in the wind,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Old joy came close again,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh, underneath the April boughs,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I think her heart broke then.</span><br/>
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