To A Violet - Poem by John Bowring
Sweet flower! Spring's earliest, loveliest gem!
While other flowers are idly sleeping,
Thou rear'st thy purple diadem;
Meekly from thy seclusion peeping.
Thou, from thy little secret mound,
Where diamond dew-drops shine above thee,
Scatterest thy modest fragrance round;
And well may nature's poet love thee!
Yes! I have envied thee, sweet flower!
And long'd like thee to live obscurely;
Shelter'd in some benignant bower,
And breathing forth my soul so purely.
Thine is a short, swift reign, I know-
But here,-thy spirit still pervading-
New violet tufts again shall blow,
Then fade away-as thou art fading,
And be renew'd: the hope how blest,
(O may that hope desert me never!)
Like thee to sleep on nature's breast,
And wake again, and bloom for ever!
Comments about To A Violet by John Bowring
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You