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Mary Webb. Untitled. The first two lines read: “In April, in April, / My heart is set.” Manuscript poem, one leaf, 11½″ x 6¾″, off-white laid ruled paper. Thirty-three lines, in black ink. It was with the coming of spring each year (in April, with its freshness, abundance of wild flowers, and green growth) that Webb’s Celtic sensibilities quickened. “In borders dark with melted snow. / Wakening there from wintry sleep / With every bud, I sunward creep. / The empurpled crocuses, that dare, / With delicate veins the dawn-cold air.”