THE lilacs blossom at the door,
⁠⁠The early rose
Whispers a promise to her buds,
⁠⁠And they unclose.

There is a perfume everywhere,
⁠⁠A breath of song,
A sense of some divine return
⁠⁠For waiting long.

Who knows but some imprisoned joy
⁠⁠From bondage breaks,—
Some exiled and enchanted hope
⁠⁠From dreams awakes?

Who knows but you are coming back
⁠⁠To comfort me
For all the languor and the pain,
⁠⁠Persephone?

O come! For one brief spring return,
⁠⁠Love's tryst to keep;
Then let me share the Stygian fruit,
⁠⁠The wintry sleep!