86 WITH HERBS AND FLOWERS 



THE LILAC 



THE lilac-bush is in blossom, 



It hath the balmy smell 

 Of that dear delicious summer, 



Of love's first miracle. 

 I feel, as I breathe its fragrance, 



The old enchanting pain, 

 The sweet insatiate longing, 



Thrill through my heart and brain. 



Oh youth ! youth ! youth ! where are you ? 



I call, but you come no more ! 

 I weep, but afar you mock me ! 



And you laugh when I implore ! 

 Yet you hide within the lilac, 



With an odour you shoot me through, 

 And a whiff of the old you fling me 



That is better than all the new. 



How proudly we struggled to leave you, 



When you implored us to stay ! 

 How bitterly grieve to regain you 



When once you have fled away. 

 Too late, too late, we love you, 



And long for your laugh of surprise, 

 And we only truly can see you 



With manhood's tears in our eyes. 



You flung your arms around me 

 And pelted me with flowers ; 



You clung to me as we wandered 

 Among those lilac bowers. 



