Occasioned by a Lady having presented a Gentleman, in
return for a poem, with a golden violet. In imitation of
the ancient Provencals.
AH ! me! poor simple flower! I fondly thought,
A Poet’s soul could ne’er by GOLD be bought!
Oh! I could die! to find his heart untrue,
Though all I suffer, Nature, is for YOU .
You saw me first in spring’s soft bosom rest,
Then smiling clothed me in a beauteous vest;
Did each rich fold in sweetest perfume lave,
And still a lovelier, dearer charm you gave;
Bade Truthand Faith by me be ever known,
And Constancy’s true colour was my own.
Alas! your lover Nature now no more!
The Poet dotes on dross, and sordid ore;
My perfume’s gone, my colour now is old,
E’en your poor Violet must be drest in gold.
(Mrs. Walter Spencer)
More Poetry from Mrs. Walter Spencer:
Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems based on Topics: Mind, Flowers, Soul, Nature, Thought & Thinking, Literature, Poets, Spring, Poetry, Gold- The Royal Interview (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
- Sub Rosa (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
- To The Memory Of A Lady Of Distinction (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
- The Myrtle Of South Wales (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
- The Olive Wood (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
- Sighs, (Mrs. Walter Spencer Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Soul Poems, Nature Poems, Flowers Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Gold Poems, Spring Poems, Literature Poems, Poets Poems, Poetry PoemsBased on Keywords: dotes, occasioned, provencals