 | Measured Steps |  |
45
[Fine Violets! Fresh Violets! Come buy!]
Fine Violets! Fresh Violets! Come buy!Refuse them? I would not be you.
All springtime it haunts me, that cry:—
Fine Violets! Fresh Violets! Come buy!
Whose loss if she tell me a lie?
‘They're starving; my God, sir, it's true!
Fine Violets! Fresh Violets! Come buy!
Ah, rich man!—I would not be you.’
| Measured Steps | |