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1757–1827

MY PRETTY ROSE TREE

William Blake

A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said “I've a pretty rose tree,” And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

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.

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MY PRETTY ROSE TREE · William Blake · Poetry Cove