THE VIOLET

Jane Taylor 1783-1824

Down in a green and shady bed, 

 A modest violet grew; 

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head

 As if to hide from view. 

And yet it was a lovely flower, 

 Its colour bright and fair; 

It might have graced a rosy bower, 

 Instead of hiding there. 

Yet thus it was content to bloom, 

 In modest tints arrayed; 

And there diffused a 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.

A PERSONAL SCRAPBLOG No.4 WILL BE POSTED TOMORROW

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