The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (3.1894)

To a Bunch of Lilac
By Theo Marzials

" Dzir-m^z' /zz _/?Fzzz*, ^ zfz'rzzz A
T s it the April springing,
) Or the bird in the breeze above ?
My throat is full of singing,
My heart is full of love.
O heart, are you not yet broken ?
O dream, so done with and dead,
Is life's one word not spoken,
And the rede of it all not read ?
No hope in the whole world over !
No hope in the infinite blue !
Yet I sing and laugh out like a lover—
Oh, who is it, April—who ?
And the glad young year is springing ;
And the birds, and the breeze above,
And the shrill tree-tops, are singing—
And I am singing—of love.
-R * # *

O beautiful