Poems (David)/To Violets wet with dew
TO VIOLETS, WET WITH DEW.
OH! glancing from the woodland glades, Comes the violet's modest eye,Thus smiling up thro' forest shades, In robe of white, or purple dye.
Herald of gay and laughing Spring, Wafting thy rich perfume around;To earth alone could angels bring The bloom that to my heart is bound!
The diamond dew-drops as they lay, Thus trembling in the April sun,—All bright and beaming 'neath his ray, They fade ere yet the noon's begun.
Dew-drops, poised on buds so slender, Falling when the world is robed in sleep:Ye are the tears, soft and tender, That Christ for man could only weep!
Would, bright as crystal drops of dew Our love to God still clearer stand;Each weary soul retrace anew The records of His mighty Hand!
Would, dear gentle flower, that we Might leave, in death, a name like thine;And our lives would more truly be An image of our Lord Divine!