And for my soul's great grief no tear I had,
No lamentation for my heart's deep ache;
Yet what I bore seemed more than I could bear,
Beside you there, white violets in your hair.
A white rose, blooming at the window-bar,
And, glimmering in it, like a firefly caught
Upon the thorns, the light of one white star,
Looked in on you, as if they felt and thought,
As did my heart,—"How beautiful and fair
And young she lies, white violets in her hair!"