Were you to blame, Child Love, That as they came So merrily across the fields, A wild-rose-laden limb, Teased her to pluck the flower it yields For him? Did you then pull, Boy Love, Your small hand full Of petals, dropping one by one O'er your palm's crumpled rim, Until you left the husk alone For him? What a prank you played, Fie Love! Another maid Laughed out, "Wilt thou my sweet bud have?" And, then, was it your whim? Plucked out the stem the first girl gave To him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: TO HOMER by JOHN KEATS SOUTHERN PACIFIC by CARL SANDBURG THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 44. FAREWELL TO JULIET (6) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 4. IN SWITZERLAND: A QUIET MOMEMENT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EPITAPH ON JAMES GRIEVE, THE LAIRD OF BOGHEAD by ROBERT BURNS TO THE DUKE OF DORSET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON AN ELEGY UPON THE UNTIMELY DEATH OF PRINCE HENRY by THOMAS CAMPION |