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THE GOLDEN VIOLET.
He flung it to his only child, now sadly standing by.
"Now weep, for here is cause for tears; alas! mine own are dry."
Then answer'd proud the noble boy, "My tears last morning came
For weakness of my own right hand; to shed them now were shame:
I will not do my brothers' names such deep and deadly wrong;
Brave were they unto death, success can but to God belong."
And years have fled, that boy has sprung unto a goodly height,
And fleet of foot and stout of arm in his old father's light;
