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 colour bright and fair;

It might have graced a rosy bower,  Instead of hiding there.

Yet thus 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.