The Violet Book

by Unknown

At feet of writhing trees. The violets raise

Their heads without affright, without amaze,

And sleep through all the din, as sleeps a child.

—HELEN HUNT JACKSON.

Violet is for faithfulness,

Which in me shall abide.

—ANONYMOUS.

Such sweet prophetic gladness as we feel

When first we find beneath the bare spring hills

So lately circled by the whirling snows,