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My pretty pale young violet, Thy moony cheek uncover; Lift that hood of fallen sky, And my lips once more I'll wet Against the dew-ball of thine eye. Hist, oh hist! So a leafy whisper said Underneath a sweet-briar shade. Guess the lady-blossom's lover! 'Twas the flowery Alchymist, A stinging, gay, intriguing fellow, The wildest bee in black and yellow. Hist, oh hist! My pretty pale young violet! Glowworm's lightning blind me When I leave my bud's embrace, When I traitorously forget Thy cerulean baby's grace. Hist, oh hist! The very next night he told the tale To a little lily of the vale, And the poor young violet died of shame. Oh! fie, thou flowery Alchymist, Thou stinging, gay, intriguing fellow, Thou wildest bee in black and yellow! Back Home |