68 VIOLET. 



At length the perfume fill'd the room, 

 Shed from the purple wreath ; 



No flower has now so rich a bloom, 

 Has now so sweet a breath. 



I gather'd two or three, — they seem'd 



Such rich gifts to bestow, — 

 So precious in my sight, I deem'd 



That all must think them so. 



Ah ! who is there but would be fain 



To be a child once more. 

 If future years could bring again 



All that they brought before? 



My heart's world has been long o'erthrown, 



It is no more of flowers ; — 

 Their bloom is past, their breath is flown, 



Yet I recall those hours. 



Let Nature spread her loveliest. 



By spring or summer nurst; 

 Yet still I love the Violet best, 



Because I loved it first. 



