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Reet Admuthe

Tragedy Fantasy

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Reet Admuthe

Tragedy Fantasy

An Philia

An Philia

1 min
22


Love is like the wild rose-briar,

Friendship like the holly-tree

The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms

But which will bloom most constantly?


The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring

It's the scent of summer blossoms in the air;

Yet wait till winter comes again

And who will call the wild - the briar fair?


Then scorn the silly rose wreath now

And deck thee with the holly sheen,

That's when December blights thy brow

He may still leave the garland green.


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