Pansy Poetry

Pansies When the earliest south winds softly blow Over the brown earth, and the waning snow In the last days of the discrowned March,– Before the silver tassels of the larch, Or any tiniest bud …

Pansies Tufted and bunched and ranged with careless art Here, where the paving-stones are set apart, Alert and gay and innocent of guile, The little pansies nod their heads and smile. With what a …

White Pansies Day and night pass over, rounding, Star and cloud and sun, Things of drift and shadow, empty Of my dearest one. Soft as slumber was my baby, Beaming bright and sweet; Daintier than bloom …