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WHAT did she whisper, roses mine? -
That the white rose paled for sweetness,
And the red rose blushed as if drunk with the wine
Of the kiss from her lips' completeness?
Did she tell her thoughts as her head she bowed,
And her breath with your own commingled?
Did she say that among the numberless crowd
One face of them all she singled?
Did she breathe a name, O roses mine!
As she clasped your blossoms tightly;
And you looked in the depths of her eyes divine,
Where the fires of love burn brightly?
Alas! I can never hope to know
The secrets to you confided.
Perhaps that she whispered soft and low
You did not know, as I did.
Ah, well! you are better off; you died,
Nor knew the heaven you died in.
And I, - though the evening at her side
Was heaven, 'twas a heaven I sighed in.
G.C.G.
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