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A poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
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The Rose |
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Title: The Rose Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge [More Titles by Coleridge] As late each flower that sweetest blows Around his brows a beamy wreath I softly seiz'd the unguarded Power, But when unweeting of the guile Ah! soon the soul-entrancing sight 'And O!' he cried--'Of magic kind
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