The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
read more

The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
Than all the lavish fragrance of the time.

It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes read more

It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odor.

Who are the violets now
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?

Who are the violets now
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?

And the violet lay dead while the odour flew
On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.

And the violet lay dead while the odour flew
On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.

Early violets blue and white
Dying for their love of light.

Early violets blue and white
Dying for their love of light.

Again the violet of our early days
Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun,
And kindles into read more

Again the violet of our early days
Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun,
And kindles into fragrance at his blaze.

Surely as cometh the Winter, I know
There are Spring violets under the snow.

Surely as cometh the Winter, I know
There are Spring violets under the snow.

Hath the pearl less whiteness
Because of its birth?
Hath the violet less brightness
read more

Hath the pearl less whiteness
Because of its birth?
Hath the violet less brightness
For growing near earth?

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on read more

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.