The Violet

A VIOLET in a valley dwelled;
It bloomed alone and unbeheld;
Ah! 'twas a delicate vi'let!
A shepherd-maiden, blithe and young,
With tripping foot and spirits gay,
That way, that way,
Came down the vale and sung.

Ah! wished the violet, would I were
Let be some flower of beauty rare!
Ah! but one little while let!

Then, might I, culled by one so fair,

Be softly in her bosom put,

Ah! but, ah! but

One little moment there!

But ah! the damsel heeded not

Its plaint, and as she passed the spot

She crushed the helpless vi'let.
It sank, and died with smothered sigh,
"And though I die my death is sweet:
I die, I die,
By her and at her feet."