Songwriter: Walt Whitman, John C Slade
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourned-and yet shall mourn, with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring: Trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac-blooming perennial-and drooping star in the West,
And thought of him I love…
O powerful Western fallen star!
O shades of night, O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappeared … O helpless soul of me …
In the dooryard fronting an old farm house near the white-washed palings,
Stands the lilac bus tall growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle-and from this bush in the dooryard
With delicate colored blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
Here, coffin, that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac.