PANSIES.
Pansies! pansies! what can compare
With your varied colors so rich and rare?
Beautiful flower—in thee I trace
The features of the human face.
And when I look into thine eyes,
They greet me, with a glad surprise.
I love to touch thy velvety cheek,
And I almost fancy I hear thee speak.
Ah! well-a-day pansy, you and I
Must part, for the summer has gone by.
Soon in thy wintry bed thou’lt be,
And a mantle of snow will cover thee.
There shalt thou rest, till the spring-time rain
Awakes thee from thy sleep again;—
Then thou’lt come forth as fresh and bright,
As comes the sun, at the morning light.
So farewell, pansy; farewell till the spring.
I shall look for thee, when the robins sing.