130 
VIOLET. 
Are hail’d with delight. 
As they glitter like gems in their sphere; 
So Beauty, when tired with the glare 
Of each golden and glittering tree, 
Shrinks back from the light 
Of a garland so bright, 
And joyfully hastens to me. 
Sweet Violet-bud! gentle Violet-bud ! 
How gladly she hastens to thee ! 
There are others of brighter attire. 
But none richer offerings bring; 
Just as Beauty appears, 
When smiling in tears,— 
I welcome the rosy spring. 
Some are vain of their beauteous array. 
And others are flaunting and free ; 
While enshrined like a queen. 
In my bright bower of green,— 
The garden pays homage to me. 
Sweet Violet-bud ! gentle Violet-bud! 
Who would envy such tribute to thee ! 
