Page:Armenian poems, rendered into English verse (IA armenianpoemsren00blaciala).pdf/41

LITTLE GIFTS.

SHE was alone. I brought a gift—
A rose, surpassing fair;
And when she took it from my hand
She blushed with pleasure there.

Compared with her, how poor and pale
The red rose seemed to be!
My gift was nothing to the kiss
My lady gave to me.

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