Your airy flight has past from us;
And you are gone where flowers invite,
A pilgrimage of rich delight.
But come not near the hollyhock, [(2)]
Let not its blooms your fancy mock;
Shun its nectaries so fair,
Death is ever lurking there;
On its petals if you light,
You'll be seized with instant blight.
Shun it as you onward fly!