Poem by Ellis Parker Butler

A Minute

She plucked a blossom fair to see;
  Upon my coat I let her pin it;
And thus we stood beneath the tree
          A minute.

She turned her smiling face to me;
  I saw a roguish sweetness in it;
I kissed her once;—it took, maybe,
          A minute.

The time was paltry, you’ll agree;
  It took but little to begin it;
But since my heart has not been free
          A minute.

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