DROrS FROM FLORA'S CUP. 39 
THE VIOLET. 
FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE. 
A violet blossomed on the green, 
With lowly stem, and bloom unseen; 
It was a sweet, low flower. 
A shepherd maiden came that way 
With lightsome step and aspect gay. 
Came near, came near, 
Came o’er the green with song. 
Ah! thought the violet, might I be 
The fairest flower on all the lea, 
Ah! but for one brief hour; 
And might be plucked by that dear maid, 
And gently on her bosom laid, 
Ah! but, ah! but, 
A few dear moments long. 
Alas! the maiden, as she passed, 
No eye upon the violet cast; 
She crushed the poor, wee flower; 
It sunk, and dying, heaved no sigh, - 
And if I die, at least I die' 
By her, by her, 
Beneath her feet I die. 
A 
