To Rosella
Beauty like thine
Is a wilderness flower,
That would lose half its charms
If removed to a bower.
In its own wild vale
It grows simple and fair,
And it never can bloom
Half so lovely as there.
Then smile, sweet rose!
But to feast on that smile,
There is many a bee
Would come many a mile!
Is a wilderness flower,
That would lose half its charms
If removed to a bower.
In its own wild vale
It grows simple and fair,
And it never can bloom
Half so lovely as there.
Then smile, sweet rose!
But to feast on that smile,
There is many a bee
Would come many a mile!
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