




TH 
iy 
BY MISS L. E. LANDON. 
Way better than the lady rose 
Love I this little flower ? 
Because its fragrant leaves are those 
I loved in childhood’s hour. 
eee many a flower may win my praise 
The violet has my love ; 
[did not pass my childish sabe 
In garden or in grove. 
My garden was the window-seat, 
Bion whose edge was set 
A little vase—the fair, the sweet 
It was the violet. 
It was my pleasure and my pride ;— 
How I did watch its Bee 
For health and bloom what plans I tried 
4 
And often injured: both! 

the evening hour, 
k anon half und 






