The violet droops its soft and bashful brow, But from its heart sweet incense fills the air So rich within - so pure without - art thou, With modest mien and soul of virtue rare.
The violet droops its soft and bashful brow, But from its heart sweet incense fills the air So rich within - so pure without - art thou, With modest mien and soul of virtue rare.
Work for some good, be it ever so slowly Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly Labor - all labor is noble and holy.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories