LOVE AND THE SPRING-FLOWER.’Tis pity, ev’ry maiden knows,Just as she cools, Love warmer grows;But, if the chill be too severe,Trust me, he’ll wither in a tear.Thus will the spring-flow’r bud and blow,Wrapp’d round in many a fold of snow;But, if an ice-wind pierce the sky,’Twill drop upon its bed, and die!
’Tis pity, ev’ry maiden knows,Just as she cools, Love warmer grows;But, if the chill be too severe,Trust me, he’ll wither in a tear.Thus will the spring-flow’r bud and blow,Wrapp’d round in many a fold of snow;But, if an ice-wind pierce the sky,’Twill drop upon its bed, and die!