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1823–1904

A CHARADE.

Grace Greenwood

My first is fair, as when it graced The bowers of Paradise; It glows in Cashmere's vale, and climbs Where snowy Alp-peaks rise:

It glads the peasant-woman's heart, And the Queen's imperial eyes. My second is a sacred name, A name of high renown,

By poets sung, yet common‘ tis, As daisies on the down, Though ladies grand and royal dames Have worn it as a crown.

When William's ship rocked in the bay, Impatient to be gone, And William took his seaward way Across our dewy lawn,

To pluck my whole to give her love, Rose Mary with the dawn. Rose-mary.

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A CHARADE. · Grace Greenwood · Poetry Cove