Shelly's Violet-

"The odour 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!

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:
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be."