The Violet Book Part 7
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In each hedgerow spring must hasten Cowslips sweet to set; And under every leaf, in shadow Hide a violet.
--ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
The buds of April had burst into bloom on the willow and maple, Fresh with dew was the sod, with dim blue violets sprinkled.
--D. CHAUNCEY BREWER.
The dream of winter broken, Behold her, blue and dear, Shy Violet, sure token That April's here!
--FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN.
Not the first violet on a woodland lea Seemed a more visible gift of Spring than she.
--JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
No more shall meads be decked with flowers, Nor sweetness dwell in rosy bowers, Nor greenest buds on branches spring, Nor warbling birds delight to sing, Nor April violets paint the grove, If I forsake my Celia's love.
--THOMAS CAREW.
And O, and O, The daisies blow, And the primroses are wakened; And the violets white Sit in silver light, And the green buds are long in the spike end.
--OLD ENGLISH SONG.
A violet that nestles cheek to the mellowed ground; The humming of a happy brook about its daily round; The woody breath of pines; the smell of loosening sods; Such simple links of being,--such common things of G.o.d's.
--ELLA M. BAKER.
Merry, ever-merry May!
Made of sunbeams, shade and showers, Bursting buds and breathing flowers!
Dripping locked and rosy-vested, Violet slippered, rainbow crested.
--WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.
There were banks of purple violet, And arbutus, first whisper of the May.
--FRANCES L. MACE.
Through thee, meseems, the very rose is red, From thee the violet steals its breath in May.
--JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
Beneath my feet The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, Running over the club-moss burrs; I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky, Full of light and of deity; Beauty through my senses stole,-- I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
--RALPH WALDO EMERSON.
Now the tender, sweet arbutus Trails her blossom-cl.u.s.tered vines, And the many-figured cinquefoil In the shady hollow twines; Here, behind this crumbled tree-trunk, With the cooling showers wet, Fresh and upright, blooms the sunny Golden-yellow violet.
--DORA READ GOODALE.
Saintly violets, plucked in bosky dell.
--CLINTON SCOLLARD.
Thy feasting tables shall be hills With daisies spread, and daffadils; Where thou shalt sit, and red-brest by, For meat, shall give thee melody.
Ile give thee chaines and carkanets Of primroses and violets.
--ROBERT HERRICK.
With saucy gesture Primroses flare, And roguish violets Hidden with care.
And whatsoever There stirs and strives, The spring's contented, It works and thrives.
--JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE.
White violets, pure violets, That might be wreathed in coronets For baby brows of spotless mould, That no earth shadows overfold; White winsome things with dovelike wings That brood in gra.s.sy nest, As thick as stars no tempest mars With presence of unrest.
--EMILY S. OAKEY.
Look forth, Beloved, through the tender air, And let thine eyes The violets be.
--BAYARD TAYLOR.
The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: "Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read."
--CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.
The gentle drift Of odorous distillings in the air, Daffodils growing on the field's green breast, Buds all a-blow, and the enchanted breath Of violets peeping in the damp hedgerow, Kindled to being.
--CHRISTINA CATHERINE LIDDELL.
That young May violet to me is dear, And I visit the silent streamlet near, To look on the lovely flower.
--WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
The larch has donned its rosy plumes, And hastes its emerald beads to string: The warblers now are on the wing, Across the pathless ocean glooms.
Through tender gra.s.s and violet blooms I move along and gaily sing.
--RICHARD WILTON.
Violets stir and arbutus wakes, Claytonia's rosy bells unfold; Dandelion through the meadow makes A royal road, with seals of gold.
--HELEN HUNT JACKSON.
Dear little violet, Don't be afraid!
Lift your blue eyes From the rock's mossy shade!
All the birds call for you Out of the sky: May is here, waiting, And so, too, am I.
The Violet Book Part 7
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The Violet Book Part 7 summary
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