THE VIOLET. 
’Tis like tke stream o’er pebbles flowing, 
Or trees tbrongb wMcb tke breeze is blowing, 
Or like tke knm wken dear friends meet. 
And like to every tking tkat’s sweet. 
Nor can tke memory e’er depart, 
Wkick kolds tkis flower in many a keart. 
And wko is tkere tkat wonld forget, 
Tke modest bine Wild Violet. 
