The Golden Rose

A poem by William Arthur Dunkerley

The Golden Rose is blowing still,
Is growing still, is glowing still,
In lonely vale, on lordly hill,
The Golden Rose is glowing still;--
If only you can find it!

The Golden Rose still breaks and blows,
Still breaks and blows, still gleams and glows,
'Mid icy blasts, and wintry snows,
The Golden Rose still breaks and blows;--
Search w ell and you may find it!

The Golden Rose can never die,
'Tis grafted on Eternity;
In hearts that Love doth glorify,
The Golden Rose can never die,--
May it be yours to find it!

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