I see the buds on the lilac trees.
It will be lovely when they open, as they will fill the air with their magnificent scent.
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd, 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...
Walt Whitman