Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/132

So the true heart repulse doth never heed
In doing deeds of good and charity;
If the still voice of Conscience bid proceed,
It presseth on and on unfearingly.

Me thinks a yellow crowfoot too I see,
On the green earth a glittering mimic star;
This to a Christian maid may emblem be
Of hopes that fain would dwell in heaven afar.

The stingless nettle too befits her brow,
Reproof with warning looks that harmeth not;
This will I twine among the rest, to shew
Repulse to aught that may the purest blot.

The violet too, that fain unknown would bloom,
And scatter fragrance round it all unseen—
O happy, from the cradle to the tomb,
Who like the violet in their life have been!

And let the gardens yield their early store,
The modest snowdrop with its downcast eye,
The gladsome crocus, that doth spangle o’er
The borders with its joyous brilliancy.

How precious the few flowers of early spring!
Youth can do little, but we prize it more,
That little, than what later days can bring
Out of their rich and time-o’erflowing store.