O wind, where have you been,
That you blow so sweet?
Among the violets
Which blossom at your feet.
The honeysuckle waits
For Summer and for heat.
But violets in the chilly Spring
Make the turf so sweet.
More verses by Christina Georgina Rossetti
- Maiden May
- Hope Is Like A Harebell Trembling From Its Birth
- Our Little Baby Fell Asleep
- Mother Country
- Margaret Has A Milking-Pail