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1874–1944

II

Theodosia Garrison

My lilies are like nuns in white That guard me well all day, But the red, red rose that near them grows Is wiser far than they.

Oh, red rose, wise rose, Keep my secret well; I kiss you twice, I kiss you thrice To pray you not to tell.

My lilies sleep beneath the moon, But wide awake are you, And you have heard a certain word And seen a dream come true.

Oh, red rose, wise rose, Silence for my sake, Nor drop to-night a petal light Lest my white lilies wake.

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II · Theodosia Garrison · Poetry Cove