• When April bends above me
    And finds me fast asleep
    Dust need not keep the secret
    A live heart died to keep.

    When April tells the thrushes,
    The meadow-larks will know,
    And pipe the three words lightly
    To all the winds that blow.

    Above his roof the swallows,
    In notes like far-blown rain,
    Will tell the little sparrow
    Beside his window-pane.

    O sparrow, little sparrow,
    When I am fast asleep,
    Then tell my love the secret
    That I have died to keep.