Knew not the Sun, sweet Violet,
The while he gleaned the snow,
That thou in darkness  ... ,
Wast slumbering below?
Or spun a splendour of surprise
Around him to behold him rise?

Saw not the Star, sweet Violet,
What time a drop of dew
Let fall his image from the sky
Into thy deeper blue?
Nor waxed he tremulous and dim
When rival Dawn supplanted him?

And dreamest thou, sweet Violet,
That I, the vanished Star,
The Dewdrop, and the morning Sun
Thy closest kinsmen are -
So near that, waking or asleep,
We each and all thine image keep?