Poems (Edwards)/The Violet
For works with similar titles, see The Violet.
THE VIOLET.
There is an humble little flower That blossoms in the valley's green,The loveliest of sweet Flora's gifts, In modest beauty it is seen.
No watchful eye above it bends, No hand defends it from the blast,It waves before the zephyr's breath, Yet stands unbroken 'mid the blast.
Filled with the fragrant morning dew, It sparkles like an angel's eye,Revealing through its crystal tears, The beauty of the far-off sky.
'Tis thus Humility is found, Remote from honour, fame, and power,It seeks the shady walks of life, And blossoms, like this modest flower.