What is the sweetness borne
upon the April morning air
but breath of English violets
so far from those green isles
that gave them name! Oh,
the morning is twice fair,
enrished by fragreace briefly,
briefly here! How many miles
afar this perfume sends my thoughts
to wandering! Oh, if England in the spring
were all that this persuasive
and seductive scent does make it seem,
heart might follow thought,
take wing
to those green shores and there
dispel, perhaps, this moment’s dream
as time all dreams and too
this scented magic where
it permeates the April morning air!