GATHER VIOLETS.

Gather violets white and blue,

Where the southern zephyrs play;

Bring them sparkling with the dew,—

With the blessed dew of May.

Let me fold them to my breast,

Emblems sweet of earthly bliss;

Ha! they love to be caressed,

For they give me kiss for kiss.

How my weary heart doth yearn,

Touched as by a hand Divine,

While their soft blue eyes they turn

Full of sympathy to mine!

Do they know how much I sigh

For the meadows where they grew?

For the forest and the sky,

Where they caught their azure hue?

There is One who knows it all,—

To his loving arms I flee:

Oh, he hears my feeblest call,

And I know he pities me.

He ere long will take my hand

Saying tenderly, “Arise!”

He will lead me to the land

Where no blossom ever dies.