Explore "The Rose" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Since the days of old Adam the welkin has rung / With the praises of sweet scented posies, / And poets in rapturous phrases have sung / The paramount beauties of roses.
Wheresoever she bides, whether nestling in lanes / Or gracing the proud urban bowers, / The red, royal rose her distinction maintains / As the one regnant queen among flowers.
How joyous are we of the west when we find / That Fate, with her gifts ever chary, / Has decreed that the Rose, who is queen of her kind / Shall bloom on our wild western prairie.
Let us laugh at the east as an impotent thing / With envy and jealously crazy, / While grateful Chicago is happy to sing / In the praise of the rose -- she's a daisy.