Percy Bysshe Shelley - On a Faded Violet
On a Faded Violet,
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The odour from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The colour from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!
A shriveled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast,
And mocks the heart which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep,---my tears revive it not!
I sigh,---it breathes no more on me;
lts mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be.