Why does not History tell us, who met

First, the sweet breath of the first violet?

Rather I'd know it than facts that are known—

As when some tyrant ascended some throne,

A battle was fought, a comet display'd,

Coals were discover'd, or steam-engines made.

I can no moment recall, ere I knew

Perfume pertain'd to those blossoms of blue;

Had the first knowledge of sweetness like this

Touch'd me to-day, what perfection of bliss!

Children with all that creation can grant

Scarcely will miss the one pleasure I want,

Just to remember the day and the hour

When, by spring breezes caressingly blown,

Delicate fragrance of violet flower

First touch'd my senses, becoming my own!

[pg 14]

And what can it be—oh, what can it be,

That has garnish'd earth with a golden grace?

What is this something that entering me

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