The Fool’s Song

“Love me, love me, love me, love me,”
I sang along my way –
A flower filled way, ‘pon a green lea –
One gold summer’s golden day.

I stooped to pick a red, red rose,
Then asked its petals bright:
“Dost thou love me, o red, red rose?”
But it closed in darkness tight.

“I love thee,” said a prickly thorn,
“My love for thee ne’er died.”
But my rose dead, I was forlorn,
And cast rose and thorn aside.

“Love me, love me, love me, love me,”
I sing along the way,
Still filled with flowers, ‘pon the green lea,
Where I once threw true love away.

7th August.

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