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VIOLET. 
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st un¬ 
seen 
By slow Meander’s margent green, 
And in the violet-embroider’d vale. 
Milton. 
-1 hey are as gentle 
As zephyrs, blowing below the Violet, 
Not wagging his sweet head. 
Cymbeline. 
Or when the blue-eyed Violet weeps upon 
Some sloping bank. 
B. Cornavali.. 
Sheltered from the piercing north, 
Pure and meek, like modest worth, 
See her ope, her dark-blue eye. 
Like a midnight frosty sky, 
Changeless hue of constancy. 
Anon. 
Oft in shades sequestered found. 
Dwelling lonely on the ground, 
Scattering sweetest odours round. 
Anon. 
The way-side violet, 
That shines unseen, and, were it not 
For its sweet breath, would be forgot. 
Anon. 
