THE VIOLET’S LOVE-STORY. 
 
AMONG the lilies of the sacred stream 
There grew a violet, like a maiden’s dream, 
And when the wind passed over them, it stirred 
Their white soft petals with its quiet word. 
 
The sun looked on them and their leaves were 
glad ; 
Only the purple blossom there, that had 
No kindred by the stream, let fall a tear, 
Half wishing for the autumn of the year. 
 
But when the summer came, the violet guessed, 
By some slow dream that thrilled her gentle breast, 
That some sweet thing might come to her ;  she 
thought 
Through the long days of how her dream was 
wrought : 
 
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