Fifteen Millions Of Soldiers With

Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour Of Lilac, Your Great Puffs Of Flowers Are Everywhere In This My New England ... Lilacs In Dooryards Holding Quiet Conversation With An Early Moon; Lilacs Watching A Deserted House; ... Lilacs, Wind-beaten, Staggering Under A Lopsided Shock Of Bloom, You Are Everywhere.

In My Stiff, Brocaded Gown. With My Powdered Hair And Jeweled Fan, I Too Am A Rare Pattern.

My Words Are Little Jars For You To Take And Put Upon A Shelf. Their Shapes Are Quaint And Beautiful, And They Have Many Pleasant Colours And Lustres To Recommend Them. Also The Scent From Them Fills The Room With Sweetness Of Flowers And Crushed Grasses.

Happiness, To Some, Elation; Is, To Others, Mere Stagnation.

May Is Much Sunshine Through Small Leaves.