"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.
Goodnight. Farewell."

[Taken from the Book of Candleburning Rituals]