I THE odor from the flower is gone, Which like thy kisses breathed on me; The color from the flower is flown, Which glowed of thee, and only thee! II A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, It lies on my abandoned breast, And mocks the heart, which yet is warm, With cold and silent rest. III 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEA-GRAVE by SARA TEASDALE THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD by RUDYARD KIPLING BENEDICITE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FROM A YOUNG WOMAN TO AN OLD OFFICER WHO COURTED HER by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST NOT TO BE MINISTERED TO by MALTBIE DAVENPORT BABCOCK TO LIFE by HELEN TAPPAN BERTHOFF THE SILKWORM by VINCENT BOURNE A SOLILOQUY ON READING 'A DISPUTE ABOUT FAITH AND WORKS' by JOHN BYROM |