To meet thee, when thy faint perfume
Alone is in the virgin air.
Of all her train, the hands of Spring
 First plant thee in the watery mould,
And I have seen thee blossoming
 Beside the snow-bank's edges cold.
Thy parent sun, who bade thee view
 Pale skies, and chilling moisture sip,
Has bathed thee in his own bright hue,
 And streaked with jet thy glowing lip.
Yet slight thy form, and low thy seat,
 And earthward bent thy gentle eye,
Unapt the passing view to meet
 When loftier flowers are flaunting nigh.
Oft, in the sunless April day,
Thy early smile has stayed my walk;
But midst the gorgeous blooms of May,
Compares the modest yellow violet to others flowers who are able to flaunt high. Claims are made here that the flower is not suitable to the other flowers. In terms of Bryant’s style, he is known to use nature to describe the world around him which leaves room to believe he is speaking of himself and not feeling competent to the company surrounding him.
The Yellow Violet