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The Violet


Down in a green and shady bed,

A modest violet grew.

It's stalk was bent, it hung it's head,

As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,

It's color bright and fair,

It might have graced a rosy bower,

Instead of hiding there.


Yet, there it was content to bloom,

In modest tints arrayed,

And there it spread it's sweet perfume,

Within the silent shade,

Then let me to the valley go,

This pretty flower to see,

That I may also learn to grow,

In sweet humility.


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