THERE WAS A ROSE.
"There was a rose," she said,
"Like other roses, perhaps, to you.
Nine years ago it was faint and red,
Away in the cold dark dew,
On the dwarf bush where it grew.
"Like other roses, perhaps, to you.
Nine years ago it was faint and red,
Away in the cold dark dew,
On the dwarf bush where it grew.
"Never any rose before
Was like that rose, very well I know;
Never another rose any more
Will blow as that rose did blow,
When the wet wind shook it so.
Was like that rose, very well I know;
Never another rose any more
Will blow as that rose did blow,
When the wet wind shook it so.
"What do I want—Ah, what?
Why, I want that rose, that wee one rose,
Only that rose. And that rose is not
Anywhere just now? . . . God knows
Where all the old sweetness goes.
Why, I want that rose, that wee one rose,
Only that rose. And that rose is not
Anywhere just now? . . . God knows
Where all the old sweetness goes.
