 | Young Maids & Old China |  |
FLOWERS.
Are you sorry, pretty flowers,
To be gathered from the garden,—
To be sheltered from the showers,
And the chilling frosts that harden
The soft tear-drops of the night
To ice-splinters keen and bright?
To be gathered from the garden,—
To be sheltered from the showers,
And the chilling frosts that harden
The soft tear-drops of the night
To ice-splinters keen and bright?
Of your loveliness the due 'tis
By mankind to be admired;
Or prefer you, like proud beauties,
To deny, and be desired?
To be loved is better far
Than be longed for, like a star.
By mankind to be admired;
Or prefer you, like proud beauties,
To deny, and be desired?
To be loved is better far
Than be longed for, like a star.
Nay, sweet maid! No flower lingers
Coy to such a kindly lover!
But, to fall by careless fingers,
And—the moment's fancy over—
In lone ruin to be left,—
What can compensate the theft?
Coy to such a kindly lover!
But, to fall by careless fingers,
And—the moment's fancy over—
In lone ruin to be left,—
What can compensate the theft?
| Young Maids & Old China | |