Florence Earle Coates


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!

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