<h2><SPAN name="chap31"></SPAN>THE LILAC</h2>
<p class="poem">
The scent of lilac in the air<br/>
Hath made him drag his steps and pause<br/>
Whence comes this scent within the Square,<br/>
Where endless dusty traffic roars?<br/>
A push-cart stands beside the curb,<br/>
With fragrant blossoms laden high;<br/>
Speak low, nor stare, lest we disturb<br/>
His sudden reverie!<br/>
<br/>
He sees us not, nor heeds the din<br/>
Of clanging car and scuffling throng;<br/>
His eyes see fairer sights within,<br/>
And memory hears the robin’s song<br/>
As once it trilled against the day,<br/>
And shook his slumber in a room<br/>
Where drifted with the breath of May<br/>
The lilac’s sweet perfume.<br/>
<br/>
The heart of boyhood in him stirs;<br/>
The wonder of the morning skies,<br/>
Of sunset gold behind the firs,<br/>
Is kindled in his dreaming eyes:<br/>
How far off is this sordid place,<br/>
As turning from our sight away<br/>
He crushes to his hungry face<br/>
A purple lilac spray.<br/></p>
<p class="left">
WALTER PRICHARD EATON</p>
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