Dear little Violet, with Thy dewy eye,
Look up and tell me truly,
When no one is nigh,
What Thou art!
The Violet answered with a gentle sigh,
If that is to be told when alone,
Then I must sadly own,
You will never know what am I.
For my brothers and sisters are all around
In the air and on the ground,
And they are the same as I.
O Joy! O Joy! O Joy!
The playful breeze am I,

How gently Thy cheeks I stroke,
As my fragrant breath passes by,
Carrying messages of love.
Confidence,, peace and cheer,
And sweetly taking away all anxiety,
All anxiety, worry and fear,
O Joy! O Joy! O Joy!
The little black ant am I,
Moving so silently and swiftly.
And noiselessly passing by
In a world in which it is not concerned,
And bothering too about things to be earned,
But working without a murmur or sigh,
No thought of reward or position high.
O joy! O Joy! O Joy!
The sparkling dew am I,
I kiss and lick the flower’s lips.
Sweet children of my sun,
Violets, Roses, Tulips, Lilies,
Jessamine, Poppies, Daisies, and Pinks,
Grass, Leaves and Seeds I nurse and feed,
Their Father left, the little ones rest.
From air high to them I descend.
And to suckle bend,
They sleep and sip breast’s liquid tips,
There comes the sun, my Lover,
The children smile and open their eyes.
And just when I discover,
I melt in joyful sighs,
Oh, I am the Love! I am the Lover!
Ob, I’m the Lover, I am the Lover!