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...I SIT AND SEW by ALICE RUTH MOORE DUNBAR-NELSON IN HONOR OF TAFFY TOPAZ by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY THE PROUD MISS MACBRIDE; A LEGEND OF GOTHAM by JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR by ALFRED TENNYSON |