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!
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.

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!
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.

End