Vioht. 
32 
trothed to Atys, and changed by Diana into a Violet, 
to hide her from Apollo. 
A woman’s love, deep in the heart, 
Is like the Violet flower, 
That lifts its modest head apart 
In some sequestered bower. 
Anon. 
The maid whose manners are retired, 
Who, patient, waits to be admired, 
Though overlooked, perhaps, a while 
Her modest worth, her modest smile,— 
Oh, she will find, or soon, or late, 
A noble, fond, and faithful mate, 
Who, when the spring of life is gone, 
And all its blooming flowers are flown, 
Will bless old Time, who left behind 
The graces of a virtuous mind. 
Paulding. 
Pansies, Lilies, Kingcups, Daisies, 
Let them live upon their praises; 
Long as there’s a sun that sets, 
Primroses will have their glory; * 
Long as there are Violets, 
They will have a place in story: 
There’s a flower that shall be mine, 
’Tis the little Celandine. 
Eyes of some men travel far 
For the finding of a star; 
Up and down the heavens they go, 
Men that keep a mighty rout! 
J 
