Down to the earth’s green face; the air grew warm,
The snowdrops had regained their lovely charm;
The world had melted round them in a day:
My full heart longed for violets.
—CHARLES TENNYSON-TURNER.
The sweetness of the violet’s deep blue eyes,
Kissed by the breath of heaven, seems colored by its skies.
—LORD BYRON.
When we were children we would say,—
“I like the coming of the spring,