Christian Milne

Scotland

Sent With A Flower Pot, Begging A Slip Of Geranium

BEGGING A SLIP OF GERANIUM.
I'VE sent my empty pot again,
To beg another slip;
The last you gave, I'm griev'd 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 serv'd me oft before;
But, should this die, I'll break the pot,
And trouble you no more.
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