Sir Walter Scott
Edinburgh / Scotland

The Violet

Rating: 2.8
The violet in her greenwood bower,
Where birchen boughs with hazel mingle,
May boast itself the fairest flower
In glen, or copse, or forest dingle.

Though fair her gems of azure hue,
Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining;
I've seen an eye of lovelier blue,
More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining.

The summer sun that dew shall dry,
Ere yet the day be past its morrow;
No longer in my false love's eye
Remain'd the tear of parting sorrow.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Geoffrey Plowden 11 April 2016
A beautiful poem on a familiar commonplace, or topos, but inspired by a real experience, I believe.
0 0 Reply
Brenda Harris 10 March 2016
Lovely Poem, flowed nicely and well written
0 0 Reply
Susan Williams 10 March 2016
Oh, another poem decrying the falseness of a woman. I think he had poor taste in women. Still the poem is beautifully written even though about a false love
19 0 Reply

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