The rose is red, the violet's blue the honey's sweet, and so are you. Thou are my love and I am thine, I drew thee to my Valentine. The lot was cast and then I drew, and Fortune said it shou'd be you.
Where, like a pillow on a bed, A pregnant bank swelled up, to rest The violet's reclining head, Sat we two, one another's best.john donne
The honey-bee that wanders all day long The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er, To gather in his fragrant winter store, Humming in calm content his winter song, Seeks not alone the rose's glowing breast, The lily's dainty cup, the violet's lips, But from all rank and noxious weeds he sips The single drop of sweetness closely pressed Within the poison chalice.Anne C. Lynch Botta
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