VrOLET. 
121 
THE HANDFUL OF VIOLETS. 
ANON. 
And shall the muse to thee her praise deny. 
Thou best, tho’ most diminutive of flowers ? 
For where can Nature, thro’ her wide domains. 
Boast other odours half so sweet as thine ? 
Tho’ the striped tulip, and the blushing-rose. 
The polyanthus broad, with golden eye, 
The full carnation, and the lily tall, 
Display their beauties in the gay parterre, 
In costly gardens, where th’ unlicensed feet 
Of rustics tread not—yet that lavish hand. 
Which scatters violets under ev’ry thorn. 
Forbids that sweets like these should be con¬ 
fined 
Within the limits of the rich man’s wall. 
TO AN EARLY VIOLET. 
HOWITT. 
Herald of brighter hours ! why from thy rest 
Thus early dost thou start? chill is the 
gale, 
To form, like thine, so beautiful and frail. 
The rook, with careful cries that seeks its nest. 
Flings its broad shadow on thy dewy breast. 
