Longings

Now when the first wild violets peer All rain-filled at blue April skies, As on one smiles one's sweetheart dear With the big teardrops in her eyes:

Now when the May-apples, I wis, Bloom white along lone, greenwood creeks, As bashful as the cheeks you kiss, As waxen as your sweetheart's cheeks:

Within the soul what longings rise To stamp the town-dust from the feet! Fare forth to gaze in Spring's clean eyes, And kiss her cheeks so cool and sweet!