INTRODUCTORY. 
But violets droop in shrinking sorrow, 
And thou should’st only gladness borrow, 
And love, and beauty, and delight 
From all that meets thy beaming sight: 
And nought but joy thy days should know, 
Could fervent prayers such gifts bestow. 
What blossom, then, may justly be 
A fitting emblem, sweet, for thee ? 
Enshrining in its balmy breast 
Thy image as its sylph-like guest? 
None—none can shadow forth thy powers; 
Thou art thyself the flower of flowers! 
W. 
