Wednesday, August 17, 2005
My Pretty Rose-Tree
A flower was offer'd to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said "I've a pretty Rose-Tree",
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty Rose-Tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my Rose-Tree turn'd away with jealousy,
And Her thorns were my only delight.
Soft Snow
I walked abroad in a snowy day,
I asked the soft snow with me to play;
She play'd and she melt'd in all Her prime,
And the winter called it a dreadful crime.
certified 1:56 AM
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