Violets

'Twas just at sundown, when the leaves were wet With evening dew, Far in the fields where sky and violet Blend rifts of blue—

But for a moment, deep among the flowers And rain-sweet grass, I saw her—loved her—and as April showers Beheld her pass.

O, the lone vastness of the afterglow, Unknown before; Shall e'er I see that face where violets grow, Perchance, once more!

Yet no one comes save night, with wild regrets And silent pain— Only sometimes the scent of violets On wind-blown rain.