The delicate thought, that cannot find expression, — Pansies

"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 seemd 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."

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

"Hearts 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."

"Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earths prolific lap."

"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."

"The pansy freaked with jet. That is true"