Wild Roses
Against the dim hot summer blue
Yon wave of white wild-roses lies,
Watching with listless golden eyes
The green leaves shutting out their view,
The tiny leaves whose motions bright
Are like small wings of emerald light:
White butterflies like snow-flakes fall
And brown bees drone their honey-call.
Yon wave of white wild-roses lies,
Watching with listless golden eyes
The green leaves shutting out their view,
The tiny leaves whose motions bright
Are like small wings of emerald light:
White butterflies like snow-flakes fall
And brown bees drone their honey-call.
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