| |
| VERY dark the autumn sky, | |
| Dark the clouds that hurried by; | |
| Very rough the autumn breeze | |
| Shouting rudely to the trees. | |
| |
| Listening, frightened, pale, and cold, | 5 |
| Through the withered leaves and mould | |
| Peered a violet all in dread— | |
| “Where, oh, where is spring?” she said. | |
| |
| Sighed the trees, “Poor little thing! | |
| She may call in vain for spring.” | 10 |
| And the grasses whispered low, | |
| “We must never let her know.” | |
| |
| “What ’s this whispering?” roared the breeze; | |
| “Hush! a violet,” sobbed the trees, | |
| “Thinks it ’s spring,—poor child, we fear | 15 |
| She will die if she should hear!” | |
| |
| Softly stole the wind away, | |
| Tenderly he murmured, “Stay!” | |
| To a late thrush on the wing, | |
| “Stay with her one day and sing!” | 20 |
| |
| Sang the thrush so sweet and clear | |
| That the sun came out to hear, | |
| And, in answer to her song, | |
| Beamed on violet all day long; | |
| |
| And the last leaves here and there | 25 |
| Fluttered with a spring-like air. | |
| Then the violet raised her head,— | |
| “Spring has come at last!” she said. | |
| |
| Happy dreams had violet | |
| All that night—but happier yet, | 30 |
| When the dawn came dark with snow, | |
| Violet never woke to know. | |
| |
