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The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on read more
The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.
Who are the violets now
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?
Who are the violets now
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?
And the violet lay dead while the odour flew
On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.
And the violet lay dead while the odour flew
On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.
Violet! sweet violet!
Thine eyes are full of tears;
Are they wet
Even yet
read more
Violet! sweet violet!
Thine eyes are full of tears;
Are they wet
Even yet
With the thought of other years?
Cold blows the wind against the hill,
And cold upon the plain;
I sit me by the read more
Cold blows the wind against the hill,
And cold upon the plain;
I sit me by the bank, until
The violets come again.
And shade the violets,
That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
And shade the violets,
That they may bind the moss in leafy nets.
The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
read more
The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
Than all the lavish fragrance of the time.
We are violets blue,
For our sweetness found
Careless in the mossy shades,
Looking read more
We are violets blue,
For our sweetness found
Careless in the mossy shades,
Looking on the ground.
Love's dropp'd eyelids and a kiss,--
Such our breath and blueness is.
- Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),
