ROSES
You love the roses - so do I. I wish
They sky would rain down roses,
as they rain From off the shaken bush.
Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on.
They would fall as light As feathers,
smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!
~George Eliot (1819-1880)~
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