O FAINT, delicious, springtime violet! Thine odor, like a key, Turns noiselessly in memory's wards to let A thought of sorrow free. The breath of distant fields upon my brow Blows through that open door The sound of wind-borne bells, more sweet and low, And sadder than of yore. It comes afar, from that beloved place, And that beloved hour, When life hung ripening in love's golden grace, Like grapes above a bower. A spring goes singing through its reedy grass; The lark sings o'er my head, Drowned in the sky — O, pass, ye visions, pass! I would that I were dead! — Why hast thou opened that forbidden door, From which I ever flee? O vanished joy! O love, that art no more, Let my vexed spirit be! O violet! thy odor through my brain Hath searched, and stung to grief This sunny day, as if a curse did stain Thy velvet leaf. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 51 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE VISION OF SIN by ALFRED TENNYSON PENITENTIAL PSALM by THOMAS WYATT CHARADES: 2 by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY TO A DEAD POET by ELEANOR ROGERS COX THESE THREE: INTERPRETATION, RESERVATION, REJECTION by OLIVER MURRAY EDWARDS |