Part 12 (1/2)

--ANONYMOUS.

'Twas violet time when he and she Went roaming the meadows wide and free.

A happy lad and la.s.s were they, Their hearts, their hopes, their voices gay,-- She seventeen, he twenty-three.

The skies were calm as a sleeping sea, And the hills and streams and the mossy lea A part of the wooing seemed to be; 'Twas violet time.

Years fled, and weak and old grew he; His form was bent like a snow-bowed tree, His hair was white and hers was gray, But their souls were young as a morn in May, And in their souls--sweet mystery!-- 'Twas violet time!

--ERNEST WARBURTON SHURTLEFF.

A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye-- Fair as a star, when only one Is s.h.i.+ning in the sky, She lived.

--WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

O playmate in the golden time!

Our mossy seat is green, Its fringing violets blossom yet; The old trees o'er it lean.

--JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

The brown pine-needles at our feet Spread forth until the green is met, To mingle all their perfume sweet With trillium and with violet.

--WILLIAM McLELLAN.

Ungarlanded still stand the fair White ladyes of the wood; Yet, purple-robed, the violet Peeps from her gray-green hood.

--ANONYMOUS.

Pa.s.sing along through the field of wheat By the hedge where in spring the violets glow, And the bluebells blossom around our feet.

--CHARLES SAYLE.

Lady violet, blooming meekly By the brooklet free, Bending low thy gentle forehead All his grace to see; Turn thee from the wooing water-- Whisper soft, I pray, For the wind might hear my secret-- Does he love me? Say!

--N. C. KETCHUM.

Violets in the hazel copse, Bluebells in the dingle; Birds in all the green tree-tops Joyous songs commingle.

--MARY C. GILLINGTON.

In her face a garden lies: Violets are her azure eyes; Just below them there repose Blus.h.i.+ng cheeks of velvet rose; 'Twixt the roses, scorning drouth, Tulips of her tempting mouth.

In this garden alley may Only one, the chosen, stray.

Reveling in their radiant hues, Tasting of their precious dews, Rich delights he ne'er forgets-- Tulips, roses, violets.

--GEORGE BIRDSEYE.

From over-sea, Violets, for memories, I send to thee.