 | [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry |  |
140
LET ME GO!
BUTTERFLY-WEED.
Nay! ours is not the morning
Of love, when all is fresh and sweet,
I often catch you yawning,
You know, where'er we meet.
Of love, when all is fresh and sweet,
I often catch you yawning,
You know, where'er we meet.
141
For me—I must confess, love,
I'm growing rather bored—and so
Take back this golden tress, love,
And let me—let me—go!
I'm growing rather bored—and so
Take back this golden tress, love,
And let me—let me—go!
| [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry | |