74 WILD FLOWERS. 
What modest thoughts the Violet teaches, 
What gracious boons the Violet preaches, 
Bright maiden, ne’er forget 1 
But learn, and love, and so depart, 
And sing thou, with thy wiser heart, 
“ Long live the Violet! ” 
To the Snow-Drop. 
Pbetty firstling of the year! 
Herald of the host of flowers! 
Hast thou left my cavern drear, 
In the hope of summer hours 1 
Back unto my earthen bowers! 
Back to thy warm world below, 
Till the strength of suns and showers 
Quell the now relentless snow ! 
Art still here—Alive? andblythe? 
Though the stormy Night hath fled, 
And the Frost hath passed his scythe 
O’er thy small unsheltered head 1 
