I send thee pansies while the year is young,
Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night;
Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;
And if in recollection lives regret
For wasted days and dreams that were not true,
I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet"
Is still the heart's ease that the poets knew
Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought,
And for the pansies send me back a thought.
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Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for
thoughts.
Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for
thoughts.
Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today
Here in the garden; had you seen the place
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Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today
Here in the garden; had you seen the place
When Sutherland was living!
Here they grew,
From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each
A golden dazzle like a glimmering star,
Each broader, bigger than a silver crown;
While here the weaver sat, his labor done,
Watching his azure pets and rearing them,
Until they seem'd to know his step and touch,
And stir beneath his smile like living things:
The very sunshine loved them, and would lie
Here happy, coming early, lingering late,
Because they were so fair.
I pray, what flowers are these?
The pansy this,
O, that's for lover's thoughts.
I pray, what flowers are these?
The pansy this,
O, that's for lover's thoughts.
Heart's ease! one could look for half a day
Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out
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Heart's ease! one could look for half a day
Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out
Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow,
That gave this gentle name.
Pansies for ladies all--(I wis
That none who wear such brooches miss
A jewel in the mirror).
Pansies for ladies all--(I wis
That none who wear such brooches miss
A jewel in the mirror).
Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.
Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.
They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together--
Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;
How they ever read more
They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together--
Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;
How they ever got there you must ask the April weather,
The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew.
Darker than darkest pansies.
Darker than darkest pansies.
