Caroline Lamb

* * *

Amidst the flowers rich and gay,
 That deck the fairy paths of pleasure,
I mark'd one violet in my way,
 And seiz'd the little purple treasure.

It seem'd to weep, the glitt'ring dew
 Fell from it as I press'd it nearer,
And thought that nothing fair or new,
 Could ever to my heart be dearer.

Alas! I left it like the rest,
And left it when it lov'd me best.

And now in youth and vigour gay,
 I wander forth each hour enchanted;
Taste every joy that meets my way,
 Nor ask one boon that is not granted.

Yet some times with an aching heart,
 I think of vows so fondly plighted,
 Of early love for ever blighted,
And those who fell beneath its dart.

In this cold selfish world, there's none
Can love me now, as thou had'st done.