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The rose — A sight

Wikisource, a biblioteca livre

If this delicious, grateful flower,
Which blows but for a little hour,
Should to the sight so lovely be,
As from its fragrance seems to me,
A sigh must then its colour show,
For that is the softest joy I know.
And sure the rose is like a sigh,
Borne just to soothe and then - to die.