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William Blake : My Pretty Rose Tree

A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore,
But I said, Ive a pretty rose tree,
And I passed the sweet flower oer.

Then I went to my pretty rose tree,
To tend her by day and by night,
But my rose turned away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight. 

William Blake (1757-1827)	P. 1793

 
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