JANE TAYLOR

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, 5 Its colors bright and fair! It might have graced a rosy bower Instead of hiding there. Yet there it was content to bloom In modest tints arrayed; 10 And there diffused its 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 15 In sweet humility.