CALLING THE VIOLET 155 



Hear the rain whisper, 



" Dear Violet, come ! " 

 How can you stay 



In your underground home ? 

 Up in the pine boughs 



For you the winds sigh. 

 Homesick to see you 



Are we May and I. 



Ha ! though you care not 



For call or for shout, 

 Yon troops of sunbeams 



Are winning you out ; 

 Now all is beautiful 



Under the sky ; 

 May's here, and violets ! 



Winter, good-bye. 



LUCY LARCOM. 



