SHE PINNED A ROSE ON ME She sweetly bit the stem off short, And pinned a rose on me; She had to slightly raise her head, For she was small, you see. And we were all alone just then— She sweetly bit the stem off short And pinned a rose on me. I pressed my lips upon her brow And love o'erflowed her eyes; She did not say, "How dare you, sir!" But heaved soft, happy sighs. She was my mother, sweetheart, all— I pressed my lips upon her brow, And love o'erilowed her eyes. IN OLDF 4 N STYLE. Good mistletoe, I wish to say That none alive, be who he may, Less superstitious is than I, Or signs or omens more defy, Old, foolish customs less obey; I'm modern quite i►► every way, No beau or powdered popinjay Am I, nor could be should I try, Good mistletoe. And yet 'twas just this very day, With ribbons red, and holly gay, I saw you hanging there on high, 'Twas dark, and Polly laughed and--why You wouldn't blame a convert, pray Good mistletoe? George/own College Jon; nal.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers