 | The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich |  |
III
The long years come, but theyCome not again!
Through vapors dense and gray
207
But they come not again—
Swept by the battle's fiery breath
Down unknown ways of death.
How can our fancies help but go
Out from this realm of mist and rain,
Out from this realm of sleet and snow,
When the first Southern violets blow?
| The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | |