In your eyes a story I read— 
A story of constancy. 
After the storms and winter’s wind, 
■Softly you came with influence kind • 
Then as I bend with listening ear, 
Your cheerful voice I plainly hear, 
Preaching a sermon to me. 
So whisper to me, my Pansies sweet— 
Tell me in rustlings low, 
Of that beautiful land where fadeless flowers 
Brightly bloom in immortal bowers, 
And no blighting- wind doth blow. 
Pell of the care that is over all— 
That gives you your garments gay ; 
Whose loving hand clothes the floweret small, 
That grows in the field, or by the garden wall. 
Whose life is only a day. 
Yes, tell of the love, my Pansies sweet— 
Of the love that knows no end ; 
That through earth’s winter safely keeps 
Watch over his children, and never sleeps ; 
The love that paints the violet blue, 
And quenches your thirst with drops of dew, 
The weary heart’s faithful friend. 
Marie. 
