—MARY F. FAXON.
Where fields of goldenrod cannot offset
One meadow with a single violet.
—HELEN HUNT JACKSON.
If ever thou ’rt left alone,
Think not that thy love is dead,
But look till thou find’st the red
Wild rose, and say, “’Tis her cheek.”
Then kiss it close; and seek—
Where the clear dew never dries—