THE STORY OF THE MOSS ROSE
A little maid went out to play One summer day of old. She wore a hood of velvet green Upon her curbs of gold. And when the silver twilight droppet Its veil on ail around, No traces of her anywhere. The anxious searchers round. But whore upon the earth were pressed The prints of tiny feet. They saw a bush with tender buds, AU dewy, pink and sweet, Like Uttle faces wet with tears. They peeped the leaves between. And every baby rosebud wore A hood of velvet green.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HBTRIB19280204.2.100.3
Bibliographic details
Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVIII, Issue 45, 4 February 1928, Page 14
Word Count
95THE STORY OF THE MOSS ROSE Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVIII, Issue 45, 4 February 1928, Page 14
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