I call, I call, who doe ye call? The Maids to catch this Cowslip-ball: But since these Cowslips fading be, Troth, leave the flowers, and Maids, take me. Yet, if that neither you will doe, Speak but the word, and Ile take you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LUCINDA MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE PALM-TREE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO THE LADY IN THE CHIMSETTE WITH BLACK BUTTONS by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 14. THE COMPLAINT by MARK AKENSIDE A SUNRISE IN MARCH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON THE FUNERAL OF CHARLES I; AT NIGHT, IN ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |