by Miss Landon
The Lady's Book of Flowers and Poetry, 1842
Why better than the lady rose,
Love I this little flower?
Because its fragrant leaves are those
I loved in childhood's hour.
Though many a flower may win my praise,
The Violet has my love;
I did not pass my childish days
In garden or in grove:
My garden was the window seat,
Upon whose edge was set
A little vase, the fair, the sweet,
It was the Violet.
It was my pleasure and my pride:
How I did watch its growth!
For health and bloom what plans I tried,
And often injured both.
I placed it in the summer shower,
I placed it in the sun;
And ever, at the evening hour,
My work seem'd half undone.
The broad leaves spread, the small buds grew;
How slow they seem'd to be:
At last there came a tinge of blue,
'Twas worth the world to me.