Poems | ||
ELLEN, YOU'RE MY ROSE.
Ellen, you're my rose,
Not the Summer's queen,
She her beauty shows
But when elms are green.
Her no more I see;
White fall Winter's snows,
Yet in your cheek she blooms for me;
Ellen, you're my rose.
Not the Summer's queen,
She her beauty shows
But when elms are green.
Her no more I see;
White fall Winter's snows,
Yet in your cheek she blooms for me;
Ellen, you're my rose.
Spring hung o'er her birth;
Autumn heap'd her grave;
O'er her odorous earth
Now the wild winds rave.
Summer's darling, she
Fled before the snows,
Yet in your cheek she blooms for me;
Ellen, you're my rose.
Autumn heap'd her grave;
O'er her odorous earth
Now the wild winds rave.
Summer's darling, she
Fled before the snows,
Yet in your cheek she blooms for me;
Ellen, you're my rose.
Poems | ||