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109

THE VIOLETS.
[_]

FROM THE GERMAN OF LENAU.

I.

After long cold, the wind blows soft and mild,
And fair young violets brings the beggar-child.

II.

Ah! sad to think the sweetest gift of spring
To me the child of Misery must bring.

III.

And yet this earnest of the day to me,
Is dearer from hand of Misery.

IV.

For to the Future our own grief doth bring
The gentle promises of coming spring.