Welcome, maids of honor, You doe bring In the spring, And wait upon her.

Surely as cometh the Winter, I know There are Spring violets under the snow.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.

We are violets blue, For our sweetness found Careless in the mossy shades, Looking on the ground. Love's dropp'd eyelids and a kiss,-- Such our breath and blueness is. - Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),

Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.

And the violet lay dead while the odour flew On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue.