Children with all that creation can grant
Scarcely will miss the one pleasure I want,
Just to remember the day and the hour
When, by spring breezes caressingly blown,
Delicate fragrance of violet flower
First touch'd my senses, becoming my own!
And what can it be—oh, what can it be,
That has garnish'd earth with a golden grace?
What is this something that entering me
Changes my life in a minute of space?