“violets are dead, a faded ribbon,
and a dusty curl or so;
half-torn notes, forgotten tokens
of some heartache ago.
kneeling by the hearthstone sadly
see, i throw them in the grate;
crackling now they burn, these ruins
of my joy and luckless fate.
lover’s vows, oaths false and flightly,
up the chimney fast they fly;
and the little god, i fancy,
all unseen, stands chuckling by!
still i sit beside the hearthstone,
dream-of what i cannot tell
watch the sparks amid the ashes dying out.