The Poetry of Flowers. 
93 
But soon will the shadows of night be withdrawn, 
Which ever in mercy are given ; 
And thou shalt be cheered by the light of the morn, 
And fanned by the breezes of heaven. 
And still may the 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 SHELLY. 
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 shrivelled, 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 ; 
Its mute and uncomplaining lot 
Is such as mine should be. 
DAWN, GENTLE FLOWER. 
BY BARRY CORNWALL. 
Dawn, gentle flower, 
From the morning earth I 
We will gaze and wonder 
At thy wondrous birth 1 
