THE scent of lilac in the air Hath made him drag his steps and pause Whence comes this scent within the Square, Where endless dusty traffic roars？ A push-cart stands beside the curb, With fragrant blossoms laden high； Speak low, nor stare, lest we disturb His sudden reverie！
He sees us not, nor heeds the din Of clanging car and scuffling throng； His eyes see fairer sights within, And memory hears the robin's song As once it trilled against the day, And shook his slumber in a room Where drifted with the breath of May The lilac's sweet perfume.
The heart of boyhood in him stirs； The wonder of the morning skies, Of sunset gold behind the firs, Is kindled in his dreaming eyes： How far off is this sordid place, As turning from our sight away He crushes to his hungry face A purple lilac spray.