Modest little Violet
Was her loving Mother's pet;
Didn't care to go and play,
Rather stay at home all day.
Was her loving Mother's pet;
Didn't care to go and play,
Rather stay at home all day.
Assemble a mini doll sized book: Right, is the violet's
illustration and verse. Visitors can collect all the flower illustrations
and verse from "Flower Children" to print and construct a small book of
verse for their dolls. Simply drag each png. into a Word Document,
print, cut out all of the images the same size and staple the pages
together at the left edge. Squeeze out some white school glue along the
stapled edge of the pages and attach a cardboard cover.
The scientific name for Violets is Viola sororia. Find more about these flowers here.
Poems, Clip Art, etc... About Violets:
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| Here is a little "Violet" paper doll for children to color. Color her flower petal dress with green and purple crayons. Paste on soft yarn "hair" and color her skin to match your own of that of a special friend, if you like. |
SOME VIOLETS.
by May Riley Smith
Dear friend, I give thee violets;
And for my fee,
The fragrant secret of thy life
Disclose to me.
For through it, like a guiding thread,
I scent the rue;
And faintly track the odorous feet
Of heart's-ease too.
Reach down on patient cords to me
Thy brimming cup
Of wise, sweet thoughts, that I may drink,
And thus toil up
To where thou art, so meekly high,
So far away.
I can but kiss my eager hands
To thee to-day.
Or, if I may not reach so high,
Then be it so;
If I may sit beside thy feet,
'Twill not be low.
And, listening soft, my soul may catch.
In some far sense.
The tuneful impulse of a life
Serene, intense.
Ah, me! I do but spoil my work
With clumsy phrase;
And mar, with my uncultured speech,
Where I would praise.
So I will lay my heart's-ease down
At thy kind feet;
Regretting sore their broken stems,
Their vanished sweet.
Yet praying that their faded blue
Some type may be
Of the fair badge my heart shall wear
Always for thee!
Dear friend, I give thee violets;
And for my fee,
The fragrant secret of thy life
Disclose to me.
For through it, like a guiding thread,
I scent the rue;
And faintly track the odorous feet
Of heart's-ease too.
Reach down on patient cords to me
Thy brimming cup
Of wise, sweet thoughts, that I may drink,
And thus toil up
To where thou art, so meekly high,
So far away.
I can but kiss my eager hands
To thee to-day.
Or, if I may not reach so high,
Then be it so;
If I may sit beside thy feet,
'Twill not be low.
And, listening soft, my soul may catch.
In some far sense.
The tuneful impulse of a life
Serene, intense.
Ah, me! I do but spoil my work
With clumsy phrase;
And mar, with my uncultured speech,
Where I would praise.
So I will lay my heart's-ease down
At thy kind feet;
Regretting sore their broken stems,
Their vanished sweet.
Yet praying that their faded blue
Some type may be
Of the fair badge my heart shall wear
Always for thee!
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