Christian Milne (Кристиан 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. To a Very Imprudent Young Woman
2. Written on the Morning of the Communion Sabbath
3. The Sailor’s Adieu
4. When in Dread of My Husband’s Safety at Sea
5. The Inconstant Lover

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