BLUE VIOLETS. 



THE violet blooms with every Spring, 

 With every Spring the breezes blow, 



And once again the robins sing 



A song more sweet than June can know. 



So with the violet comes desire 



For something else than common gain, 

 The glow of more than earthly fire, 



The sting of more than actual pain. 



A thousand slackened memories start, 

 Encompassed by a violet s breath, 



The vital wish of every heart, 



The Life that triumphs over Death. 



A blossom of returning light, 



An April flower of sun and dew; 



The earth and sky, the day and night 

 Are melted in her depth of blue ! 



