| Poor, pretty rose! Some rude hand crushed
And threw your loveliness aside; And yet your fragrance sweeter is Than if your beauty had not died. So, when a human heart is bruised And broken by a bitter rod, An incense rises from its wounds That angels offer unto God. |
The Call of Kansas and Other Poems
Esther M. (Clark) Hill
(Cedar Rapids: Torch Press. __)
Page 62
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