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Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton

collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge

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THE ROSE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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THE ROSE

Written in the winter of 1842 (at the age of nine)

The rose is the fairest of all flowers,
That fearfully peep from their verdant bowers;
Reclining in the gentle shade,
A lovely and embowering maid.
Attracting all that pass her there,
By her sweet countenance, and fair,
Gaining herself friends every day,
As does the blooming flower of May.
And when her leaves are strewed around,
In withering fragments on the ground,
Still we inhale her sweet perfume,
As when she was in youthful bloom.