The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.

He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.

Go pretty rose, go to my fair,
Go tell her all I fain would dare,
Tell her read more

Go pretty rose, go to my fair,
Go tell her all I fain would dare,
Tell her of hope; tell her of spring,
Tell her of all I fain would sing,
Oh! were I like thee, so fair a thing.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with read more

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with his hand
On all my birthdays, for me. save the last;
And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough,
For roses to stay after.

I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
[Fr., Je ne suis pas la rose, read more

I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
[Fr., Je ne suis pas la rose, mais j'ai vecu pres d'elle.]

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.