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.
1 odour]colour 1839.
2 kisses breathed]sweet eyes smiled 1839.
3 colour]odour 1839.
4 glowed]breathed 1839.
5 shrivelled]withered 1839.
8 cold and silent all editions; its cold, silent Stacey manuscript.