[Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends | ||
109
THE VIOLETS.
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 springTo 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 bringThe gentle promises of coming spring.
[Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends | ||