That taught them from the gods she wore the signet in her breast.
At length the zephyr raised a leaf, the lowliest of the low,
And there, behold a Violet the Spring let careless slip;
Beyond its season blooming there where newer beauties grow,
Enshrined like an immortal thought that lives beyond the lip.
"We greet thy presence, little one," the graceful Lily said,
And quivered with a silent laugh behind her snowy screen,
"Upraise unto the open sun thy modest little head;
For here, perchance, in thee at last the Flow'rs have found their queen."
A tremor shook the timid flower, and soft her answer came: