THE smell of Spring! how it comes to us,
In those simple, wild-wood flowers,
With memories sweet, of friends and home,
When never a cloud on our sky had come,
In childhood's cheerful hours.The smell of Spring! how it comes to us,
In that cluster of purple bloom,
With thoughts of the loved and loving one,
Not lost, we know, but before us gone,
Whom we left, in his wintry tomb.The smell of Spring! how it comes to us,
In the violet's fragrant breath,
With beaming hopes of that brighter shore,
Where flowers and friends, shall fall no more,
"And there shall be no more death."
Project Canterbury