The daily walk always throws up an unexpected treat and although
it was only a very short walk, yesterday, the treat was a joy to behold.
For there, in a sheltered spot, almost hidden behind the church gate,
and just the other side of our garden wall, was a large patch of violets.
I almost missed them.
The Violet
By 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,
Its colour bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a 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
In sweet humility.
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