Longing

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

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

Who knows but some imprisoned joyFrom bondage breaks,—Some exiled and enchanted hopeFrom dreams awakes?

Who knows but you are coming backTo comfort meFor 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!