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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538728" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Song Of The Violet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538728" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A humble flower long time I pined<br>Upon the solitary plain,<br>And trembled at the angry wind,<br>And shrunk before the bitter rain.<br>And oh! 'twas in a blessed hour<br>A passing wanderer chanced to see,<br>And, pitying the lonely flower,<br>To stoop and gather me.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538728" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I fear no more the tempest rude,<br>On dreary heath no more I pine,<br>But left my cheerless solitude,<br>To deck the breast of Caroline.<br>Alas our days are brief at best,<br>Nor long I fear will mine endure,<br>Though shelter'd here upon a breast<br>So gentle and so pure.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538728" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It draws the fragrance from my leaves,<br>It robs me of my sweetest breath,<br>And every time it falls and heaves,<br>It warns me of my coming death.<br>But one I know would glad forego<br>All joys of life to be as I;<br>An hour to rest on that sweet breast,<br>And then, contented, die!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Makepeace+Thackeray">William Makepeace Thackeray</a></strong></div>

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