Monday, April 13, 2009

Stood outside in the near freezing morning to admire my violas and pansies. Small, unassuming, but able to withstand an unexpected chill, they are weathering very nicely and infusing a not particularly charming place with a bit of much-needed cheer.

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 colors bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.

Yet there 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.

-Jane Taylor

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