AN angel's thought flew down to earth,
Borne on a golden beam of light;
And pausing, rested in the heart
Of a sweet, blue-eyed violet bright.
And finding there a flower-soul
Free from all taint of earthly pride,
The angel's thought would fain remain,
And in the Pansy still doth hide.
And so these gold and purple flowers,
The soft-eyed Pansies which we love,
Sprang from the violet which received
An angel's thought from heaven above.
Lydia Hoyt Farmer.