“ What girl but, having gathered flow-
ers,1
ers,1
Stript the beds and spoilt the bowers,2
From the lapful light she carries3
Drops a careless bud ?— nor tarries4
To regain the waif and stray :5
‘ Store enough for home’—she’ll say.6
So say I too : give your lover7
Heaps of loving—under, over,8
Whelm him—make the one the wealthy !9
Am I all so poor who—stealthy10
Work it was !— picked up what fell :11
Nor the worst bud—who can tell ?”12