Classic Poem

1

A man may mourn a man may sigh
Left under mans dominion
And here if woman charms his eye
His freedom leaves a pinion
They rob him of his liberty
Each hope of being free
Is taken by an evil eye
That feeds on slavery
O Love is but a Butterfly
Fond of Green fields and the blue sky

2

Aye love is fond of liberty
Green vallys and bright flowers
Sings seeking honey with the bee
For all the summer hours
A silent solitary thing
That lives within itself
You only see his azure wing
That flies from pride and pelf
O Love is like a Butterfly
Fond of green fields and purple sky

3

This love's a very tender thing
That withering fades from crime
A singing bee without a sting
A flower in frost and rime
More tender then the simple maid
Who from seduction flies
More fair then flowers that love can braid
The birth of Paradise