THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOWERS. 271 
CAPTIVE, 
The pink can no one justly slight, 
The gard’ner’s favorite flower; 
He sets it now beneath the light, 
Now shields it from its power. 
Yet ’tis not pomp, who o’er the rest 
In splendor shines, can make me blest; 
It is a still, small flower. 
VIOLET, 
I stand conceal’d, and bending low. 
And do not love to speak ; 
Yet will I, as ’tis fitting now. 
My wonted silence break. 
For if ’tis I, thou gallant man. 
Thy heart desires, thine, if I can. 
My perfumes all I’ll make. 
CAPTIVE. 
The violet I esteem indeed. 
So modest and so kind 
