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Edith Nesbit (Эдит Несбит)


In the Rose Garden


RED roses bright, pink roses and white
That bud and blossom and fall;
The very sight of my heart's delight
Is more than worth them all!
Is worth far more than the whole sweet store
That ever a garden grew--
She plucked the best to die at her breast,
But it laughed and it bloomed anew!

The red rose lay at her lips to-day,
And flushed with the joy thereof;
She said a word that the white rose heard,
And the white rose paled with love.
But the west wind blows, and my lady goes,
And she leaves the world forlorn;
And every rose that the garden grows,
Might just as well be a thorn! 



Edith Nesbit's other poems:
  1. The Whirligig of Time
  2. For Dolly Who Does Not Learn Her Lessons
  3. The December Rose
  4. The Fire
  5. Saturday Song


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