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March by Ella Wheeler Wilcox Like some reformer, who with mien austere, Neglected dress, and loud insistent tones, More rasping than the wrongs which she bemoans, Walks through the land and wearies all who hear, While yet we know the need of such reform; So comes unlovely March, with wind and storm, To break the spell of winter, and set free The poisoned brooks and crocus beds oppressed. Severe of face, gaunt-armed, and wildly dressed, She is not fair nor beautiful to see. But merry April and sweet smiling May Come not till March has first prepared the way. You can find this poem in Poems of Sentiment.