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THE ROSE TREE
W.B.YEATS

 

Oh words are lightly spoken

Said Pearse to Connolly

Maybe a breath of politic words

Has withered our Rose Tree

Or maybe but a wind that blows

Across the bitter sea

 

It needs to be but watered

James Connolly replied

To make the green come out again

And show on every side

And shake the blossom form the bud

To be the Gardenís pride

 

But where can we draw water

Said Pearse to Connolly

When all the wells are parched away

Oh plain as plain can be

Thereís nothing but our own red blood

Can make a right Rose Tree