 | Landscapes in verse |  |
12
We taste together morning's balmy gale,
And dash the early dew-drop from the thorn;
We mark the maiden verdure of the spring
Just bursting from the buds—her violets cull
Where blue they bloom in fair humility—
Emblems of virgin grace and modest worth—
The loveliest tenants of the lowliest hedge
Yet sweeter than the proudest flower, that grows,
Child of ambition, on the mountain's top.
| Landscapes in verse | |