Violets

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Title:     Violets
Author: Thomas S. Jones [More Titles by Jones]

'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.

[The end]
Thomas S. Jones's poem: Violets

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