Page:Literary Souvenir 1831.pdf/12

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The broad leaves spread, the small buds grew, How slow they seemed to be; At last there came a tinge of blue,— ’T was worth the world to me!

At length the perfume filled the room, Shed from their purple wreath; No flower has now so rich a bloom, Has now so sweet a breath.

I gathered two or three,—they seemed Such rich gifts to bestow; So precious in my sight, I deemed That all must think them so.

Ah! who is there but would be fain To be a child once more; If future years could bring again All that they brought before.

My heart's world has been long o'erthrown, It is no more of flowers; Their bloom is past, their breath is flown, Yet I recal those hours.

Let nature spread her loveliest, By spring or summer nurst; Yet still I love the violet best, Because I loved it first. L. E. L.