Beneath the shade of a beech tree high
In solitude a violet grew.
It wished to woo the sunbeams gold
And lure them to its realm of blue.
The flower in breathless eagerness
Waits for the sun-rays from on high
And gazes on the sunny world
With wistful sighs and tearful eye.
The violet longs to curtsey low
And dance amidst the sunbeams bright,
To have its pretty head adorned
With rays of shimmering golden light.
The lovely flower droops and weeps;
It heaves a piteous, hopeless sigh,
For to this realm of shadows soft
No rays of sunlight ever fly.
The violet's heart in sorrow breaks
As on the ground it withering lies.
Near by, its dying eyes behold
Sun-lighted flowers dance 'neath the skies.


  O heart, in dreams I behold thee,
In toils of despair and of pain.
Thy throbbings are wrung by emotions
That torture the heart and the brain.
The sun and the moon shine no longer,
The world lies in darkling and gloom,
And my life nursed by grief and by sorrow
Is shrouded in darkness and doom.
Thus tortured with madness of dreaming,
I curse all my past and my life;
And the heart embittered and weary
Wants but to be freed from the strife.
'Tis torture to live in a land where
The faith of one's sires is profaned,
Where honour and justice have fallen,
Where freedom in darkness is chained.
O where are the deeds of true valour
Our past and our heritage claim?
Thou phantom of glory rise from thy
Grave where is buried thy fame.
O breathe in me, Georgia, the epic
And life-giving fires of thy might!
Infuse in me strength for the struggle;
In pride let my falchion gleam bright.
May the bosom that nursed me to manhood
Curse and blast me fore'er if I fall.
O my heart, that is aching, have courage,
Fight on, though in agony's thrall!