MY RED CARNATION.S. C. W.
Redder than any summer-rose,
Far redder than the garnet glows,
And set beside the lily's snows,
Fair blossom, bloom for me!
With Indian breath of sun-kissed spice,
And dainty petals, point-device,
What florist ever knew thy price,
Or half thy charms could see?
Far redder than the garnet glows,
And set beside the lily's snows,
Fair blossom, bloom for me!
With Indian breath of sun-kissed spice,
And dainty petals, point-device,
What florist ever knew thy price,
Or half thy charms could see?
As tropic in thy breathing glow,
As if Asiatic winds did blow
Thy crown of beauty to and fro,
And sway thy slender stem;
Yet statelier in floral pride
Than any queen that flaunts a bride,
Such quaint and courtly graces glide
Around thy diadem.
As if Asiatic winds did blow
Thy crown of beauty to and fro,
And sway thy slender stem;
Yet statelier in floral pride
Than any queen that flaunts a bride,
Such quaint and courtly graces glide
Around thy diadem.
