VIOLETS. 
-Let the beauteous violet 
Be planted, which, with purple and with gold 
Richly adorned,- 
And that which creeps pale-coloured on the 
ground. 
Columella. 
-Violets, dim, 
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, 
Or Cytherea’s breath. 
Winter’s Tale. 
-the trembling violet, which eyes 
The sun but once, and unrepining dies. 
And violets, whose looks are like the skies. 
Barry Cornwall. 
-steals timidly away, 
Shrinking as violets do in summer’s ray. 
That strain again ; it had a dying fall: 
O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet south. 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odour. 
Twelfth Night. 
