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A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as may never bore;
But I said, "I've a pretty rose tree,"
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree,...
A Flower will not trouble her, it has so small a Foot,
And yet if you compare the Lasts,
Hers is the smallest Boot —
I hide myself within my flower,
That fading from your Vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me —
Almost a loneliness.
I send you a decrepit flower
That nature sent to me
At parting — she was going south
And I designed to stay —
Her motive for the souvenir
If sentiment for me
Or circumstances prudential
Withheld invincibly —
My Season's furthest Flower —
I tenderer commend
Because I found Her Kinsmanless,
A Grace without a Friend.
Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower ?
But I could never sell.
If you would like to borrow
Until the daffodil
Unties her yellow bonnet
Beneath the village door,
Until the bees, from clover rows
Their hock and...
So gay a Flower
Bereaves the Mind
As if it were a Woe —
Is Beauty an Affliction — then?
Tradition ought to know —
The Flower must not blame the Bee —
That seeketh his felicity
Too often at her door —
But teach the Footman from Vevay —
Mistress is "not at home" — to say —
To people — any more!
The good Will of a Flower
The Man who would possess
Must first present
Certificate
Of minted Holiness.
The stem of a departed Flower
Has still a silent rank.
The Bearer from an Emerald Court
Of a Despatch of Pink.