The Violet
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.
