Christian Milne (Крисчен Милн)

Sent with a Flower-Pot Begging a Slip of Geranium

I’ve sent my empty pot again
To beg another slip;
The last you gave, I’m grieved to tell
December’s frost did nip.

I love fair Flora and her train
But nurse her children ill;
I tend too little, or too much;
They die from want of skill.

I blush to trouble you again,
Who’ve served me oft before;
But, should this die, I’ll break the pot,
And trouble you no more.

1. On Buonaparte's Coronation
2. Written When My Husband Was at Sea
3. Song 4 (DEIGN to love me, charming MARY!)
4. Written during a State of Illness
5. Introductory Verses

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