Only in blissful dreams of spring,
And sunny banks of violet blue,
The past folds back its curtain dim
And memory shows thine image true.
—MELVILLE M. BIGELOW.
Winter is come again. There is no voice
Of waters with beguiling for your ear,
And the cool forest and the meadows green
Witch not your feet away; and in the dells
There are no violets.