My RoseIn a corner grows, Opens roseate and shows A heart of gold. My rose All her perfume throws About the garden With rosy petals Stippling the brook, Lisping across the wold. My rose gives all, Takes small Gifts from sun and rain, Showers her perfections With a generous joy, And waits in patient greeness Time to bloom--again. __Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos |
Dear Things And Queer Things
Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos
(Lawrence: The World Company. 1934)
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