I VIOLET. 



Sweet Violets stay, till hardier flowers 



Prepare to meet the lovely May. 



Then from your mossy shelter come, 



And rival every richer bloom ; 



For though their colours gayer shine, 



Their odours do not equal thine. 



And thus real merit still may dare to vie 



With all that wealth bestows, or pageant heraldry. 



TO A VIOLET. 



BOWRING. 



Sweet flower! Spring's earliest, loveliest gem! 



While other flowers are idly sleeping. 

 Thou rear'st thy purple diadem. 



Meekly from thy seclusion peeping. 



Thou, from thy little secret mound. 



Where diamond dew-drops shine above thee 



Scatterest thy modest fragrance round ; 

 And well may Nature's Poet love thee I 



Thine is a short, swift reign, I know; 



But here, thy spirit still pervading. 

 New Violets' tufls again shall blow, 



Then fade away — as thou art fading — 



And be renew'd ; the hope how blest, 

 (Oh may that hope desert me never!) — 



Like thee to sleep on Nature's breast. 

 And wake again, and bloom for ever! 



