III. THE FLOWER WAGONS

Violets and mignonette, crowded close together,

Crowded close together on the corner of each street,

Through the chilling dampness of the misty weather,

Violets and mignonette — ah, so close together —

Making all the Paris day colorful and sweet!

Roses faintly touched with pink; see, a soldier lingers

Close beside the flower-stand, dreaming of the day

When she broke a single bud with her slender fingers,

Pressed it to her wistful mouth — see, a soldier lingers

Dreaming of a summertime very far away.

Lilacs white and pure and new, fragrant as the morning —

One pale widow, passing by, pauses for a space,

Thinking of the lilac tree that once grew, adorning

All a little cottage home, in life's fragrant morning;

Of a lilac tree that grew in a garden place.

Pansies for a thought of love, lilies for love's sorrow,

Bay leaves green as hopes that live, berries red and brown;

Flowers vivid for a day, gone upon the morrow,

Flowers that are sweet as faith, that are sad as sorrow —

Flowers for the weary souls of a weary town.

Violets and mignonette, crowded close together,

Crowded close together on the corner of each street;

Singing of the summertime, through the misty weather,

Violets and mignonette — ah, so close together —

Making all the Paris day colorful and sweet!