If hearts could break in April,
I think that mine would now;
But no hearts break in April,
When bloom is on the bough.
The whole world laughs in April,
And any heats that break,
May only break for loveliness’
And apple blossoms’ sake.
No hearts break for sorrow
When April’s on the hill.
Oh, sing for joy in April,
And breaking heart be still.
–New York Times, April 1948 (written in April 1939)