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Nobody knows this little Rose

 Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it -- Only a Butterfly, Hastening from far journey -- On its breast to lie -- Only a Bird will wonder -- Only a Breeze will sigh -- Ah Little Rose -- how easy For such as thee to die!

Poem by Emily Dickinson
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things