A Thought in Exile
Dear little dark Rose! the winds of hate
Have striven to scorch and sear thee;
But hate shall wither and love shall reign;
And the foe that has mocked shall fear thee.
Thy stem shall be green, thy leaves shall be red,
Each flower of the earth shall praise thee,
And prayers shall be prayed for the souls of all
Who died while they tried to raise thee.
Have striven to scorch and sear thee;
But hate shall wither and love shall reign;
And the foe that has mocked shall fear thee.
Thy stem shall be green, thy leaves shall be red,
Each flower of the earth shall praise thee,
And prayers shall be prayed for the souls of all
Who died while they tried to raise thee.
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