Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LOVE VARSES TO THE BUCHEOUS DAFFODEL, by ROYALL TYLER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LOVE VARSES TO THE BUCHEOUS DAFFODEL, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Alas! My shweet daffodel's eyes
Last Line: I'll drink off a bottle of wind.
Alternate Author Name(s): Old Simon; S.
Subject(s): Actors & Actresses; Daffodils; Diction


ALAS! my shweet Daffodel's eyes
Aye made a greet ole in my arts
With rapchure my art almost dies,
When I see my adjored depart.

She's as bucheous as morning in May;
No wonder to love I'm injuc'd;
She's the shweetest of creachures I say,
That nachure has ever projuc'd.

Not Harculus boasts of more force;
Not Dougle-ss shows more desire;
Not Caato more virchus resource;
Nor Uthellur e'er rag'd with more fire --

Than I for shweet Daffodel feel,
When jest by the woodlands we meet:
She's the emblum of all that's genteel;
She's parfect in all that is shweet.

I made her a promus of love;
To ajore her ever was my juty:
I was onest and true as a dove,
For who could be false to such a beauche!

I never my promus will breek,
Though the whirld should in phalanx oppose:
Her virchue will bind me to keep
What her radiunt eyes did impose.

My art haches to think on her charms
Lest forchune her aspect should churn: --
Was the beauche but once in my harms,
She from me should never rechurn.

Shet out from her presence I mope;
The shepherds all call me schupid:
Would forchune then lend me a rope,
I'd soon bid ajue to shweet Cupid.

If I lose her, I'll mount on my orse,
To bid her ajue then inclin'd;
And to cheer my art under her loss;
I'll drink off a bottle of wind.





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