And yet remote from public view
A flower there is of timid hue,
Beneath a sacred shade it grows,
But sweet in native fragrance blows.
From storms secure, from tempests free,
But ah! too seldom seen by me.
For scarce permitted to behold
With longing eyes each grace unfold.
My bosom struggles with its pain
And checks the wishes form’d in vain ;
Yet when I perchance supremely blest,
I hold the floweret to my breast,
Enraptur’d watch its purple glow
And blessings (all I have) bestow.
The gentle fragrance soothes my care
And fervent is my humble prayer
That no dread evil may beset
My sweet but hidden violet.
— Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire
