 | [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry |  |
209
SHARPNESS.
BARBERRY.
Now Fate preserve thee—lady fair!—I will not breathe the Frenchman's prayer,
Who to the maiden's great alarm,
Exclaimed: “God pickle you, madame!”
But “Fate preserve thee!”—even as they,
Our housewives notable, allay,
With sugared sweets, an acid juice,
And store it up for future use;—
So “Fate preserve thee,” or thou'lt stay,
Unplucked, upon the parent-tree;
Like barberries only fit to be
Packed in a gallipot away;
Unless thy sharpness be effaced,
Thou 'rt far too sour to suit my taste.
| [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry | |