RONDELS.
I.
The lilacs are in bloom,
All is that ever was,
And Cupids peep and pass
Through the curtains of the room.
Season of light perfume,
Hide all beneath thy grass.
The lilacs are in bloom,
All is that ever was.
Dead hopes new shapes assume;
Town belle and country lass
Forget the word "Alas,"
For over every tomb
The lilacs are in bloom.