by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Past
On a Faded Violet

To Mary -

Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824.

 O Mary dear, that you were here With your brown eyes bright and clear. And your sweet voice, like a bird Singing love to its lone mate In the ivy bower disconsolate;  Voice the sweetest ever heard! And your brow more... Than the ... sky Of this azure Italy. Mary dear, come to me soon,  I am not well whilst thou art far; As sunset to the sphered moon, As twilight to the western star, Thou, beloved, art to me. 
 O Mary dear, that you were here;  The Castle echo whispers 'Here!'