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Pansies for ladies all--.

Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today Here in the garden; had you seen the place When Sutherland was living! Here they grew, From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each A golden dazzle like a glimmering star, Each broader, bigger than a silver crown; While here the weaver sat, his labor done, Watching his azure pets and rearing them, Until they seem'd to know his step and touch, And stir beneath his smile like living things: The very sunshine loved them, and would lie Here happy, coming early, lingering late, Because they were so fair.

I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.

They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together-- Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue; How they ever got there you must ask the April weather, The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew.

I send thee pansies while the year is young, Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light; And if in recollection lives regret For wasted days and dreams that were not true, I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet" Is still the heart's ease that the poets knew Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought, And for the pansies send me back a thought.

The delicate thought, that cannot find expression, For ruder speech too fair, That, like thy petals, trembles in possession, And scatters on the air.

Heart's ease! one could look for half a day Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow, That gave this gentle name.

The pansy freaked with jet.

The beauteous pansies rise In purple, gold, and blue, With tints of rainbow hue Mocking the sunset skies.

And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

Heart's ease of pansy, pleasure or thought, Which would the picture give us of these? Surely the heart that conceived it sought Heart's ease.

Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.

Darker than darkest pansies.