POETRY.
MEMORIES. 0 Love, since we two bade good-bye, The regal roses' rich perfume But call the wild tears to my eyes, And brings me dreams of pain and gloom 'Twas 'mong the roses, 0 Sweetheart, That all our farewell words were said: Each summer from their graves they rise; But you to me are dead, are dead.
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The dearest treasure that I hold Is just one rose your lips did kiss; His golden store no miser hoards Nor prizes more than I do this ; Yet bitter are the tears mine eyes Upon its withered petals shed ; Poor ghost of glory once mine own, Like it, your love is dead, is dead. —M. Hedderwick Browse
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AHCOG19040915.2.5
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Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 440, 15 September 1904, Page 2
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119POETRY. Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 440, 15 September 1904, Page 2
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