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,
I passed thee on thy humble stalk.
So they, who climb to wealth, forget
 The friends in darker fortunes tried.
I copied them—but I regret
 That I should ape the ways of pride.
And when again the genial hour
 Awakes the painted tribes of light,
I'll not o'erlook the modest flower
 That made the woods of April bright.
This humble and modest flower should not be overlooked for it brought happiness and brightness to the once dark woods in April.
The Yellow Violet