The Little Queen's Coming.

A poem by Kate Greenaway

With Roses red Roses,
We'll pelt her with Roses,
And Lilies white Lilies we'll drop at her feet;
The little Queen's coming,
The people are running
The people are running to greet and to meet.

Then clash out a welcome,
Let all the bells sound, come,
To give her a welcoming proud and sweet.
How her blue eyes will beam,
And her golden curls gleam,
When the sound of our singing rings down the street.

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