Poems (Hardy)/The sonnet is the violet

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THE SONNET IS THE VIOLET
THE sonnet is the violet of song, A flower that springs responsive to the rain Of tears, or to the heart when under strainOf joy so deep that silence would do wrongTo life and love; then lyric phrases throng The thought,—intoning, rise and fall,—again, Again,—like evening bells in low refrain,As if the words the passion would prolong.O thou that seekest to make this little lower Bloom in thy garden-plot of poesy,  Behold how dear it was to laureate kings,And plant thou, too, in sacred earth and hour; And men shall love thee in the years to be  As one who loved and cherished loveliest things.

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