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Title: Three Roses
Author: Adelaide Anne Procter [
More Titles by Procter]
Just when the red June Roses blow
She gave me one,--a year ago.
A Rose whose crimson breath revealed
The secret that its heart concealed,
And whose half shy, half tender grace
Blushed back upon the giver's face.
A year ago--a year ago--
To hope was not to know.
Just when the red June Roses blow
I plucked her one,--a month ago:
Its half-blown crimson to eclipse,
I laid it on her smiling lips;
The balmy fragrance of the south
Drew sweetness from her sweeter mouth.
Swiftly do golden hours creep,--
To hold is not to keep.
The red June Roses now are past,
This very day I broke the last--
And now its perfumed breath is hid,
With her, beneath a coffin-lid;
There will its petals fall apart,
And wither on her icy heart:-
At three red Roses' cost
My world was gained and lost.
[The end]
Adelaide Anne Procter's poem: Three Roses
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