THOUGH fate upon this faded flower <br />His withering hand has laid, <br />Its odour'd breath defies his power, <br />Its sweets are undecayed. <br /> <br />And thus, although thy warbled strains <br />No longer wildly thrill, <br />The memory of the song remains, <br />Its soul is with me still.<br /><br />Joseph Rodman Drake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-lady-with-a-withered-violet/
