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About this Poem 

From Ballads and Songs (London: Cassell and Company, 1896).

 

Song of the Violet

  A humble flower long time I pined
    Upon the solitary plain,
  And trembled at the angry wind,
    And shrunk before the bitter rain.
  And oh! 'twas in a blessed hour
    A passing wanderer chanced to see,
  And, pitying the lonely flower,
    To stoop and gather me.

  I fear no more the tempest rude,
    On dreary heath no more I pine,
  But left my cheerless solitude,
    To deck the breast of Caroline.
  Alas our days are brief at best,
    Nor long I fear will mine endure,
  Though shelter'd here upon a breast
    So gentle and so pure.

  It draws the fragrance from my leaves,
    It robs me of my sweetest breath,
  And every time it falls and heaves,
    It warns me of my coming death.
  But one I know would glad forego
    All joys of life to be as I;
  An hour to rest on that sweet breast,
    And then, contented, die!

This poem is in the public domain. 

This poem is in the public domain. 

William Makepeace Thackeray

William Makepeace Thackeray, born July 18, 1811, was an English writer best known for his novels, particularly The History of Henry Esmond, Esq. (The Mershon Company Publishers, 1852) and Vanity Fair (Bradbury and Evans, 1848). While in school, Thackeray began writing poems, which he published in a number of magazines, chiefly Fraser and Punch. He died on December 24, 1863.

by this poet

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  THE MAYFAIR LOVE-SONG.

 Winter and summer, night and morn,
    I languish at this table dark;
  My office window has a corn-
    er looks into St. James's Park.
  I hear the foot-guards' bugle-horn,
    Their tramp upon parade I mark;
  I am a gentleman forlorn,
    I am a Foreign-Office Clerk.

  My toils,
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  With pensive eyes the little room I view,
    Where, in my youth, I weathered it so long;
  With a wild mistress, a stanch friend or two,
    And a light heart still breaking into song:
  Making a mock of life, and all its cares,
    Rich in the glory of my rising sun,
  Lightly I vaulted up four pair of
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  Your Fanny was never false-hearted,
    And this she protests and she vows,
  From the triste moment when we parted
    On the staircase of Devonshire House!
  I blushed when you asked me to marry,
    I vowed I would never forget;
  And at parting I gave my dear Harry
    A beautiful vinegarette!

  We spent