 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
21
VIOLETS IN WINTER.
While now the desolate lands are blank with snow,
How sweet it is to know
Fierce winter dared by fragile foes like you,
Fresh beauteous lives that ever win the grace
Of bathing each pure face
Mysteriously in heaven's own deeps of tender blue!
How sweet it is to know
Fierce winter dared by fragile foes like you,
Fresh beauteous lives that ever win the grace
Of bathing each pure face
Mysteriously in heaven's own deeps of tender blue!
As the asters breathe of Autumn, so you bring
Bland memories of new Spring,
And while your faint delicious balm one meets,
His spirit steals down blossoming orchard-ways,
By warbling brooks he strays,
Or moves through calm campagnas of pale marguerites!
Bland memories of new Spring,
And while your faint delicious balm one meets,
His spirit steals down blossoming orchard-ways,
By warbling brooks he strays,
Or moves through calm campagnas of pale marguerites!
I know not where, mild flowers, I know not whence
Is the dear difference
Between your blooms and many a one that blows!
Ah! delicate personality unknown,
Ye are yourselves alone!
What is it makes the star a star, the rose a rose?
Is the dear difference
Between your blooms and many a one that blows!
Ah! delicate personality unknown,
Ye are yourselves alone!
What is it makes the star a star, the rose a rose?
But in your chaste hearts Nature surely sets,
Exquisite violets,
Meekness and lowlihead all traits above,
And seems through your soft faces to have smiled
Like some young white-souled child,
Whose touch is benediction and whose looks are love!
Exquisite violets,
Meekness and lowlihead all traits above,
And seems through your soft faces to have smiled
Like some young white-souled child,
Whose touch is benediction and whose looks are love!
| Fantasy and Passion | |