Quote #2
I'd be a butterfly born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet.
More from Thomas Haynes Bayly
- Surely 't is better, when summer is over To die when all fair things are fading away.
- Those that have wealth must be watchful and wary, Power, alas! naught but misery brings!
- Oh no! we never mention her, Her name is never heard; My lips are now forbid to speak That once familiar word.
- We met,-'t was in a crowd.
- Gayly the troubadour Touched his guitar.
- Why don't the men propose, Mamma? Why don't the men propose?
- She wore a wreath of roses The first night that we met.
- Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.