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142
13.
[Blind as the wretch who mock'd my flowers]
Blind as the wretch who mock'd my flowers;
Or rather mock'd their well-won praises,
And swore what came from Eden-bowers
Were only buttercups and daisies—
Or rather mock'd their well-won praises,
And swore what came from Eden-bowers
Were only buttercups and daisies—
As blind was I till—till—A hare!
The thought is off, nor can I win it
Back to—well, to—I declare
This stave must end with nothing in it!
The thought is off, nor can I win it
Back to—well, to—I declare
This stave must end with nothing in it!
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