Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower, But I could never sell- If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil Unties her yellow Bonnet Beneath the village door, Until the Bees, from Clover rows Their Hock, and Sherry, draw, Why, I will lend until just then, But not an hour more! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 2 by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE GOODLY SONG by PAUL VERLAINE AN EPITAPH, ON A FOOLISH BOASTER by PHILIP AYRES NOS IMMORTALES by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NORTH WIND, SOUTH WIND by MARY BISHOP BULLARD |