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To An Early Violet
(12 January 1863 - 4 July 1902 / Calcutta / India)

To An Early Violet

What though thy bed be frozen earth,
Thy cloak the chilling blast;
What though no mate to clear thy path,
Thy sky with gloom o'ercast -
What though of love itself doth fail,
Thy fragrance strewed in vain;
What though if bad o'er good prevail,
And vice o'er virtue reign -
Change not thy nature, gentle bloom,
Thou violet, sweet and pure,
But ever pour thy sweet perfume
Unasked, unstinted, sure !

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Comments (1)

A beautifully expressed poem that any gardener can instantly get behind. I have some annuals on my porch that have remained green through a rather stern winter. I have had this happen before but a spell of warm weather followed promptly by a deep and bitter frost usually kills them off. I now shall look at them through the eyes of this poem.... as well as use as a metaphor for other events.