The Violet Book

Tell me, this sweet morn, Tell me all you know,-- Tell me, was I born? Tell me, did I grow? Fell I from the blue Like a drop of rain, Then, as violets do, Blossomed up again? --...

Under a mantle of frost-work and snow, Close by the arc of the fairy-queen’s ring, Sleeping in delicate grottoes of ice, Clusters of violets dream of the spring. --D. CHAUNCEY B...

The wild Winds clash and clang, and broken boughs are piled At feet of writhing trees. The violets raise Their heads without affright, without amaze, And sleep through all the d...

The wind sprang up in the tree-tops And shrieked with a voice of death, But the rough-voiced breeze, that shook the trees, Was touched with a violet’s breath. --PAUL LAURENCE DU...

Rosy and white on the wanton breeze The petals fall from the apple-trees, And under the hedge where the shade lies wet Are children, picking the violet. --F. W. BOURDILLON.

The wind, that poet of the elements, Tonight comes whistling down our tropic lanes, And wakes the slumbrous hours with sweet refrains. · · · · · · Before the pilgrim minstrel vi...

I heard the laughter of a brook, A tiny brook, that babbled through The fields and told the tales it took Of bird and reed and water-thing; And stooping low I saw a gleam Of vio...

Came one by one the seasons, meetly drest. · · · · · · First Spring--upon whose head a wreath was set Of wind-flowers and the yellow violet-- Advanced. Then Summer led his lovel...

O that I were listening under the olives! So should I hear behind in the woodland The peasants talking. Either a woman, A wrinkled grandame, stands in the sunshine, Stirs the br...

Ah, the days may be sullen and sober, The nights may be stormy and cold; But for him who has eyes to behold, The violets bloom in October. --ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.

But suddenly a wild bird overhead Poured forth a strain so strangely clear and sweet, It seemed to bring me back the skies of May, And wake the sleeping violets at my feet.

Pluck the others, but still remember Their herald out of dim December-- The morning-star of all the flowers, The pledge of daylight’s lengthened hours; Nor, midst the roses, e’e...