 | Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge |  |
134
CARNIVOROUS PLANTS.
What's this I hear,
My Molly dear,
About the new carnivora?
Can little plants
Eat bugs and ants
And gnats and flies?—
Why, bless my eyes!
Who is the great diskiverer?
My Molly dear,
About the new carnivora?
Can little plants
Eat bugs and ants
And gnats and flies?—
Why, bless my eyes!
Who is the great diskiverer?
Not Darwin, love,
For that would prove
Unmeet for his parading;
Surely the fare
Of flowers is air,
Or sunshine sweet;—
They should n't eat
Or do aught so degrading.
For that would prove
Unmeet for his parading;
Surely the fare
Of flowers is air,
Or sunshine sweet;—
They should n't eat
Or do aught so degrading.
135
If it, alas!
Should come to pass
That Fido here should die,—oh, let
It not be said:
“The dog is dead,
Because one day
In thoughtless play
He went too near a violet.”
Should come to pass
That Fido here should die,—oh, let
It not be said:
“The dog is dead,
Because one day
In thoughtless play
He went too near a violet.”
Oh, horror! What
If, heeding not,
Some cruel plant carnivorous
We ventured near—
Yes, we, my dear—
And slaughtered were,
With no one there
To succor or deliver us!
If, heeding not,
Some cruel plant carnivorous
We ventured near—
Yes, we, my dear—
And slaughtered were,
With no one there
To succor or deliver us!
And yet, to die
By blossoms, I
Would call a doom ecstatic.
For one might wait
A harder fate
Than have a rose
End all his woes
In pain so aromatic!
By blossoms, I
Would call a doom ecstatic.
For one might wait
136
Than have a rose
End all his woes
In pain so aromatic!
Let Science blame
Each flower by name,
And all its wicked habits.
'T is not for us
To make a fuss;
For aught we know,
The lilies grow
From dining on “Welsh rabbits”!
Each flower by name,
And all its wicked habits.
'T is not for us
To make a fuss;
For aught we know,
The lilies grow
From dining on “Welsh rabbits”!
But this I'll say:
If you, one day,
Should have some fierce bud growing,
For my sake, dear,
Let placards near
Say, by your bower:
“Beware the flower!”
Lest I should come, unknowing.
If you, one day,
Should have some fierce bud growing,
For my sake, dear,
Let placards near
Say, by your bower:
“Beware the flower!”
Lest I should come, unknowing.
| Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge | |