DEAD VIOLETS ON THE "LIDO."
ALE—scentless—dead—who brought them here, On sea-weed drifts to lie,Who took them from their garden bed, And left them here to die?The crystal sand's no home for these, The restless wave no bed,Nor salt breeze bears its life to these Sweet violets shrunk and dead.
Their hardier cousins bud and bloom In coral gardens deep,Are rocked and borne on crested wave, Then thrown on sands to sleep.
They blossom fair in ocean caves, Where pearl and harp-shell lie,They're nursed by storms that withered these Pale exiles born to die!
