Down in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head As if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flow'r, Its colors bright and fair, It might have graced a rosy bow'r Instead of hiding there.
Yet there it was content to bloom, In modest tints arrayed; And there it spread its sweet perfume Within the silent shade, Then let me to the valley go, This pretty flow'r to see, That I may also learn to grow In sweet humility.