You scarce could think so small a thing
Could leave a loss so large;
Her little light such shadow fling
From dawn to sunset's marge.
In other springs our life may be
In bannered bloom unfurled,
But never, never match our wee
White Rose of all the world.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Gerald Massey (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.