The Birth of Purple Columbine

Bright Flora found young Cupid weeping
With tears a lifeless turtle steeping:
‘Unkind Mischance!’ cries he, ‘to waft
'Gainst that fair breast my ill-sped shaft’.
The Goddess vows, to soothe his pain
That, if he'll dry those tears again,
Where sweet Columba closed her eyes
A plant of somber hue shall rise,
Whose petals deftly interlaced,
And on a slender pillar placed,
The dove's fair form shall represent,
A still fresh-springing monument.
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