Dear Lilac, how enchanting
To hear of you this way!
The Man who comes a-mouching
To visit me each day
Says you too have a lover
Far lovelier than I.
And from his rapt description,
She loves you gloriously.
The Man prowls out each morning
To see if spring's begun.
What infinite amusement
These creatures offer one!
He asks me such conundrums
As no one ever heard:
The name of April's father,
The trail of every bird,
What keeps me warm in winter,
Who wakes me up in time,
And why procrastination
Is such a fearful crime.
And yet, who knows? He may be
Our equal ages hence--
With such pathetic glimmers
Of weird intelligence!
But this your blessed alien,
Why strays she roving here?
Was Orpheus not her brother,
Persephone her peer?
Was she not once a dryad
Whom Syrinx lulled to sleep
Beside the Dorian water,
And still her eyelids keep
The glad unperished secret
From centuries of joy,
And memories of the morning
When Helen sailed for Troy?
Is her name Gertrude, Kitty,
Hypatia, or what?
I seem to half remember,
And yet have quite forgot.