1
When she gave me those violets now fading away,
But dearer than roses bright-blooming to day,
She cried with a smile, for my heart she could see,
'You may drop them, you know, when you've parted from me.'

2
They were press'd to my lips, not a word could I speak,
But I saw a bright blush gently steal o'er her cheek
As she leant on her hand - 'twas the first blush of love-
Ah, no, 'twas the shade of her rose-coloured glove.

*****

1
'Oh! what a lovely blue,' cried Azilie,
Showing a bunch of violets to me;
'Oh! what a lovely blue,' my heart replies,
For I was fondly gazing on her eyes.

2
'Who says they are not sweet?' she smiling said,
And held them near her lips of rosy red-
Those pouting lips; I only could repeat
In flattering tones, 'Who says they are not sweet?'

******

1
Flowers, ye have faded too quickly away,
Still are ye lovely, and loved in decay;
Nor would I give you for all the bright flowers,
Culled by the fairies in subterrene bowers.

2
For she who gave them more bright is and dear
Than fairies or angels in visions appear;
And looking upon them, I dream that I see
The lips and the eyes of the young Azilie.