In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac bush, 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 door-yard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
This is one of Walt Whitman's most well-known poem from the collection "Leaves of Grass". It was written shortly after Abraham Lincoln's assassination, April 14, 1865, and the blooming of lilacs in April serves as a yearly reminder to Whitman of that national tragedy.
An early Spring in Richmond has brought the lilacs to bloom in March. In Illinois where Lincoln was finally laid to rest, I imagine they will be blooming in April.
They are very nice, but unfortuantely these are one of the few that truly trigger a headache for me. I can smell them a mile away, and when I get close they immediately begin working on me.
