|
John Davidson |
|
A lover looked. She dropped her eyes Then he forsook her one fine morn;
How could she, sweet and pure as light?
And there persued her everywhere
Butterflies all white.
That glowed like pansies wet with dew;
And lo, there came from out the skies
Butterflies all blue.
The tale of love was swiftly told;
And all about her wheeled and shone
Butterflies all gold.
She wept and sobbed, "Oh, love, come back!"
There only came to her forlorn
Butterflies all black.
![]()
John Davidson
| |
Go Home |
![]() Baby Bits |
Nursery Rhymes |
For The Teacher |
![]() Little Rhymes |
List Of Contents |