Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.

Lamb’s line treats the return of April—traditionally a month of renewal and cheer—as an occasion for sardonic stock-taking. The mock-archaic diction (“cometh,” “hath”) heightens the comic pose of a world-weary observer, as if delivering a timeless proverb, while the punchline insists that folly is not seasonal but cumulative. The speaker’s complaint is less a literal census than a satirical expression of impatience with human credulity, fashion, and self-importance. Read in Lamb’s familiar essayistic vein, it also hints at self-implication: the observer stands among the “fools,” using wit to cope with the perennial disappointment that society does not improve as quickly as the calendar turns.