Poetry Archives

I held my heart so far from harm,
  I let it wander far and free
In mead and mart, without alarm,
  Assured it must come back to me.

And all went well till on a day,
  Learned Dr. Cupid wandered by
A search along our sylvan way
  For some peculiar butterfly.

A flash of wings, a hurried dive,
  A flutter and a short-lived flit;
This Scientist, as I am alive
  Had seen my heart and captured it.

Right tightly now ’tis held among
  The specimens that he has trapped,
And sings (Oh, love is ever young),
’Tis passing sweet to be kidnaped.