Florence Earle Coates Guide-Book/L

Before we knew thee thou wert with us; aye,
  In that far time forgotten and obscure
  When, doubtful of ourselves, of naught secure,
  We feebly uttered first our human cry.
We had not murmured hadst thou passed us by,
  And now, with all our vaunted knowledge sure,
  We know not from what source of bounty pure
  Thou camest, our dull clay to glorify.

Yet—for thou didst awake us when but dust,
  Careless of thee—one tender hope redeems
  Each loss by the dark river: more and more
We feel that we who long for thee may trust
  To wake again, as children do from dreams,
  And find thee waiting on the farther shore.

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!