We cannot go into the country for the country will bring us no peace What can the small violets tell us that grow on furry stems in the long gra** amoung lance shaped leaves? Though you praise us and call to mind the poets who sung of our loveliness it was long ago! long ago! when country people would plow and sow with flowering minds and pockets at ease — if ever this were true. Not now. Love itself a flower with roots in a parched ground. Empty pockets make empty heads. Cure it if you can but do not believe that we can live today in the country for the country will bring us no peace