We love the land when the world goes round, <br />And deep, deep down in her thorny ground, <br />Where nobody comes, and nobody knows, <br />We love the Rose. Oh! we love the Rose. <br /> <br />And none to tell us, and none to teach <br />By the western hedge or the shelving beach, <br />But all of us know what everyone knows, <br />We love the Rose. Oh! we love the Rose. <br /> <br />We love the rose when our day is dead, <br />And they lay their roses upon our bed; <br />Too late! Too late! in our last repose! <br />But we love the Rose. Ah! we love the Rose.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rose-111/
