Between the March and April line
That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates
Almost too heavenly near
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise
The maddest noise that grows and grows
The birds, they make it in the spring
At night's delicious close
The saddest noise I know
It makes us think of all the dead
That sauntered with us here
By separation's sorcery
Made cruelly more dear
It makes us think of what we had
And what we now deplore
We almost wish those siren throats
Would go and sing no more
An ear can break a human heart
As quickly as a spear
We wish the ear had not a heart
So dangerously near