A Dewdrop and a Violet
Were wedded on an April day;
The Dewdrop kisst his pretty pet,
Then by the Sun was called away.
The drooping flow'r bewailed her choice;
"My love will never come again!"
But from the clouds came answering voice:
"I come, my darling, with the rain!"
The Violet had jealous fears,
And told her sorrow to the Rose:
"Say--is he faithful?" O those tears!
The blossom whispered--"Goodness knows!"
The recreant dewdrop came at last,
And eased his love of all her pain:
With kisses sweet her sorrows passed,
And life anew came with the rain.