The Violet Book Part 12

--ANONYMOUS.

'Twas violet time when he and she Went roaming the meadows wide and free.

A happy lad and la.s.s were they, Their hearts, their hopes, their voices gay,-- She seventeen, he twenty-three.

The skies were calm as a sleeping sea, And the hills and streams and the mossy lea A part of the wooing seemed to be; 'Twas violet time.

Years fled, and weak and old grew he; His form was bent like a snow-bowed tree, His hair was white and hers was gray, But their souls were young as a morn in May, And in their souls--sweet mystery!-- 'Twas violet time!

--ERNEST WARBURTON SHURTLEFF.

A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye-- Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky, She lived.

--WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

O playmate in the golden time!

Our mossy seat is green, Its fringing violets blossom yet; The old trees o'er it lean.

--JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

The brown pine-needles at our feet Spread forth until the green is met, To mingle all their perfume sweet With trillium and with violet.

--WILLIAM McLELLAN.

Ungarlanded still stand the fair White ladyes of the wood; Yet, purple-robed, the violet Peeps from her gray-green hood.

--ANONYMOUS.

Pa.s.sing along through the field of wheat By the hedge where in spring the violets glow, And the bluebells blossom around our feet.

--CHARLES SAYLE.

Lady violet, blooming meekly By the brooklet free, Bending low thy gentle forehead All his grace to see; Turn thee from the wooing water-- Whisper soft, I pray, For the wind might hear my secret-- Does he love me? Say!

--N. C. KETCHUM.

Violets in the hazel copse, Bluebells in the dingle; Birds in all the green tree-tops Joyous songs commingle.

--MARY C. GILLINGTON.

In her face a garden lies: Violets are her azure eyes; Just below them there repose Blushing cheeks of velvet rose; 'Twixt the roses, scorning drouth, Tulips of her tempting mouth.

In this garden alley may Only one, the chosen, stray.

Reveling in their radiant hues, Tasting of their precious dews, Rich delights he ne'er forgets-- Tulips, roses, violets.

--GEORGE BIRDSEYE.

From over-sea, Violets, for memories, I send to thee.

--WILLIAM SHARP.

For thoughts of a sylvan home, For forest trees gemmed with dew, For sake of the Giver kind, Violets, I love you.

--GRACE HIBBARD.

I sometimes dream that when at last My life is done with fading things, Again will blossom forth the past To which my memory fondest clings.

That some fair star has kept for me Fresh blooming still by brook and tree The violets--the violets!

--FRANCES L. MACE.

When woods in early green were dressed, And from the chambers of the west The warmer breezes, traveling out, Breathed the new scent of flowers about, My truant steps from home would stray, Upon its gra.s.sy side to play, List the brown thrasher's vernal hymn, And crop the violet on its brim.

--WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

In shadows cool and dim I rest at ease from care and cark, With pinks and violets to mark My small horizon's rim.

--SAMUEL MINTURN PECK.

A shadowy nook, where half afraid Of their own loveliness, some violets lie That will not look the gold sun in the face.

--OSCAR WILDE.

How sweet to rest, ere dawns the summer's heat, Where violets gaze upward to the sky!

--GUNNISON.

Little streams have flowers a-many, Beautiful and fair as any,-- Arrowhead with eye of jet, And the water-violet.

--MARY HOWITT.

Soft-breathed winds, under yon gracious moon, Doing mild errands for mild violets.

--SIDNEY LANIER.

The violets that skirt the bank Bend down to thank The laughing stream with kisses sweet.

--ANONYMOUS.

Poised in a sheeny mist Of the dust of bloom, Clasped to the poppy's breast and kissed, Baptized in violet perfume From foot to plume!

--JAMES MAURICE THOMPSON.

CHAPTER NINE

Modest violet, maiden violet, Pray, can I borrow your blue eyes?

--ALICE CARY.