 | Wild honey from various thyme |  |
16
VIOLETS
These offered violets are not for regretThat thou can'st never give my bosom ease;
My fond, reservèd tears, if they should wet
Mine eyes, were of far blacker tinct than these.
Nor do I give them with the idle hope
Their stealthy drops thy senses should engage;
The passion at my heart has larger scope,
A bird of sweeping pinion in a cage.
Yet shalt thou grasp the force of my intent,
Pity my doom nor do my pride despite,
Who am as one by a god's fury rent,
Cast to the dust, humbled from all men's sight:
Yea, learn how their nativity empowers—
Sprung from the blood of Ajax are these flowers.
| Wild honey from various thyme | |