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With the columbine
And the eglantine
For new love, and for folly,
Now by my rood
I'll suit thy mood
So be it grave or jolly;
So be it sad
Or bad or glad
I have the flower to please thee--
The red, red rose
When love-light glows
And Cupid's witchings seize thee;
Or underwood
For maidenhood
And purest love, I borrow
The violet shy--
But should Love die
I've myrtle for thy sorrow.


I've a bunch of vine
And some columbine
For Wine and Youth and Folly--
But the flower for me
(And perhaps for thee?)
Is the rue of melancholy!