1HE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
1T2 
And still may thy tranquil and delicate shade 
Yield fragrance and solace to me; 
for though all the flowers in my garden should 
fade, 
My heart will repose upon thee. 
-♦— 
ON A FADED VIOLET. 
BY SHELLEY. 
The odour from the flower is gone 
Which, like thy kisses, breathed on me; 
The colour from the flower is flown, 
Which glow’d of thee, and only thee! 
i shrivel’d, lifeless, vacant form, 
It lies on my abandon’d breast, 
Vnd 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 ; 
its mute and uncomplaining lot 
Is such as mine should be. 
