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The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart
| All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, | | The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak
of a lumbering cart, | | The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, | | Are wronging your
image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. | | | | | | The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too
great to be told; | | I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, | | With the earth and the sky
and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold | | For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the
deeps of my heart. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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