From an Old Garden (Cloud)/Violets

by Virginia Woodward Cloud

Violets

—De lil Vi'let chillun,
 so silump an' so shy,
Dey smile up des ez pretty,
 no matter who come by.
Dey steals up f'om de medder
 an' huddles neaf mah tree,
Lak mebby dey's a-waitin'
 fo' a wud f'om me.

But I leab 'em hab dey haids,
 'less I skeer 'em, dey so still,
An' dey tiptoes up de lane,
 en roun' de milk-house hill,
'Tel dey gadders des ez natchul,—
 yas, miss, clar ter de do'!—
A-lookin' lak dey know I was
 a'spectin' of 'em so.

But whut dey got ter tell me
 befo' dey go so soon,
Dee ain' nobuddy 'spicion,
 'less hit's ole Miss Moon—
An' she ain' sayin' nuffin—Den
 dere comes er night
Brer Win' talk loud all ter hissef,
 'n dey's went wid de light!