There came a softness in the air
And with a throb of longing, ere I knew
A hint of violets, a thought of you
For whom it was, my heart breathed up a prayer.
—CURTIS HIDDEN PAGE.
The primrose turned a babbling flower
Within its sweet recess;
I blushed to see its secret bower,
And turned her name to bless.
The violets said the eyes were blue,