Poem by William Watson

* * *

Scentless flow'rs I bring thee—yet
In thy bosom be they set;
In thy bosom each one grows
Fragrant beyond any rose.

Sweet enough were she who could,
In thy heart's sweet neighbourhood,
Some redundant sweetness thus
Borrow from that overplus.

1. Lux Perdita
2. On Exaggerated Deference to Foreign Literary Opinion
3. Life without Health
4. The Glimpse
5. The Ballad of the “Britain's Pride”

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