Valentine song

By Robert Argyle Campbell

Dearest, let these roses
In their purity,
Be a present symbol
Of my love for thee.

Underneath the blossom
Thorns are sure to grow;
Take heed lest you touch them,
They would pain you so!

Ah! my faults like thorns are,
But cannot they be
Hidden ‘neath the flower
Of my love for thee?

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Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

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