I know thou art oft Passed carelessly by, And the hue so soft Of thine azure eye Gleams unseen, unsought, in its leafy bower, And with joy, sweet flower, I welcome thee here, While dark clouds lour, And winds sound drear. The Christmas wreath hath entwined my brow, But the Violet smiles in that chaplet now. Sweet wanderer!-gladly I greet thy form 'Mid the loud shrill blast and the wintry storm. Thou callest up visions of happier times Thou tellest of sunnier southern climes Thou paintest bright pictures to memory's eye, Of bliss-fraught hours for ever gone by |