Page 588

Thomas Haynes Bayly. (1797–1839)

6033

Surely ’t is better, when summer is over
To die when all fair things are fading away.

I ’d be a Butterfly.

6034

I ’d be a butterfly born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.

I ’d be a Butterfly.

6035

Those that have wealth must be watchful and wary,
Power, alas! naught but misery brings!

I ’d be a Butterfly.

6036

    Oh no! we never mention her,— 1
  Her name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to speak
  That once familiar word.

Oh no! we never mention her.

6037

We met,—’t was in a crowd. 2

We met.

6038

Gayly the troubadour
Touched his guitar.

Welcome me Home.

6039

Why don’t the men propose, Mamma?
Why don’t the men propose?

Why don’t the Men propose?

6040

She wore a wreath of roses
The first night that we met.

She wore a Wreath.

6041

Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.

Teach me to forget.

6042

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

Long, long ago.

6043

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

The Rose that all are praising.

Note 1.
Variant: “Oh, no, we never mention him.” [back]

Note 2.
Cf. Thomas Hood’s parody: We met,—’t was in a mob. [back]