SONGS AND CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS 
BV LEIGH HUNT. 
BOSES. 
We are blushing roses, 
Bending with our fulness, 
’Midst our close-capp’d sister buds 
Warming the green coolness. % 
Whatsoe’er of beauty 
Yearns and yet reposes, 
Blush, and bosom, and sweet breath, 
Took a shape in roses. 
Hold one of us lightly— 
See from what a slender 
Stalk we bower in heavy blooms. 
And roundness rich and tender: 
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