The Violet Book

by Unknown

And O, and O,

The daisies blow,

And the primroses are wakened;

And the violets white

Sit in silver light,

And the green buds are long in the spike end.

—OLD ENGLISH SONG.

A violet that nestles cheek to the mellowed ground;

The humming of a happy brook about its daily round;

The woody breath of pines; the smell of loosening sods;