A crimson rose was she When she came to me, A golden buttercup When I gave her up. I robbed her of the flame Of her virgin shame; She melted, and was spilled, And my hopes fulfilled. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FONTAINEBLEAU (AUTUMN) by SARA TEASDALE |