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.