rose

A Rose

            My love's a rose that grows and grows
                    That it should seem no end
                I have at hand such plot of land
                      that no other could attend


                I work the soil with endless toil
                      that which I never fear
               For what I do has bought me you
                     and that the rose most dear

                So I press that nothing less
                         Could ever come to be
                 I took to heart right from the start
                        The rose you saw in me

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