Chill pours the hillside’s chilling flood,
The tuneless forest all is dumb—
Whence then, fair violet, didst thou come?
—GOODRICH.
All flowers died when Eve left Paradise,
And all the world was flowerless for a while,
Until a little child was laid in earth;
Then from its grave grew violets for its eyes,
And from its lips rose-petals for its smile.
—MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN.