In milk-white garb; and these are maiden tlioiights. 
Then, ‘^purpled with Love’s wound,” the3^’re pencilled o’er 
With richer beauty; and fantastic oft. 
And fleeting too, are these love-marks, I ween. 
Some prank them bravely out in courtier garb. 
Trimming with gold their purple.* Some, methinks, 
Their quiet humble-coloured heads bend down. 
Like gentle, modest beings, doomed to bear 
Much of earth’s grief, subduing their young hearts 
Into a holy calm. Others again. 
With hues abruptly, almost harshly, mixed. 
Are like the meteor-minded sons of earth. 
With whom wild genius dwells—brilliant and strange;— 
In them e’en eiTor oft times glorious shows. 
Others, like hoarding misers, deep within 
Hide a rich golden treasure, guarded round 
With many a blackened line ; and all the rest 
Sombre and dusk appears;—they would not seem 
To have such wealth, and so go dimly clad. 
Oh ! are not Pansies emblems meet for thoughts P 
The pure, the chequer’d—gay and deep by turns; 
A hue for every mood the bright things wear 
In their soft velvet coats. 
And let his name. 
Who thus entwined them in immortal song, 
* Since writing these lines I have found that the name of the Pansy, thus 
described as a courtier, singularly coincides with my own fancy; it is the “George 
the Fourth.” 
