The violet blooms with every Spring,
With every Spring the breezes blow,
And once again the robins sing
A song more sweet than June can know.
So with the violet comes desire
For something else than common gain, -
The glow of more than earthly fire,
The sting of more than actual pain.
A thousand slackened memories start,
Encompassed by a violet’s breath, -
The vital wish of every heart,
The Life that triumphs over Death.
A blossom of returning light,
An April flower of sun and dew;
The earth and sky, the day and night
Are melted in her depth of blue!
So comes and goes an April day,
And so the violet comes and goes, -
A few pale blossoms grace the May,
A last faint breath the May-wind blows.
But now the air is full and free,
With the quickening pulses of the Spring,
And longing for the life to be
The phoebes of a sudden sing.
And on a green and shaded slope
The air is stirred with sweet perfumes,
Where, in the heat and light of hope,
Again the rare blue violet blooms!