THE FIRST VIOLET.

Spring has come, dear mother!

I've a violet found,

Growing in its beauty

From the cold, dark ground.

You are sad, dear mother,

Tears are in your eye;

You're not glad to see it;

Mother, tell me why?

I remember.—Last year,

Where our Willie lies,

Grew the earliest violet,

Blue as were his eyes.

Then you told me, mother,

That the flowers would fade,

And their withered blossoms

On the earth be laid.

But you said, as springtime

Would their buds restore,

Willie would in heaven

Be forevermore.

Weep no more, dear mother!

Violets are in bloom;

And your darling Willie

Lives beyond the tomb.