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— Francis Ledwidge"When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain Like holy water falls upon the plain, 'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain And see your harvest born. And sweet the little breeze of melody The blackbord puffs upon the budding tree, While the wild poppy lights upon the lea And blazes 'mid the corn."
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Triumphant hours are the Lark's Who circles skywards from his home each day: World's early riser, with bubbling golden song, Towards the firmament, guardian of April's gate.
— Dafydd ap Gwilym
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I give him (Frank Howard during April 28, 1968 two-hitter) shoulder, back, foot and the ball last," and Frank Howard commented, "He threw everything at me but the ball.
— Luis Tiant
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