I saw some violets yesterday, they were just growing on a grassy bank, a whole crowd of them in the sunshine, and i was reminded of the old flower seller who used to sit in Petty Cury in Cambridge calling ‘Vi’lets! Lovely vi’lets! Vi’lets! Lovely vi’lets!

When daisies pied and violets blue

When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

William Shakespeare

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