Page:Literary Souvenir 1831.pdf/12

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.