A flower was offer’d to me
by William Blake (1757–1827)
(Edited text)
* * *[1]
A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as may never bore;
But I said, "I've a pretty rose tree,"
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree,[2]
To tend it by day and by night;
But my rose[3] turn'd away with Jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.
Source: Wikisource
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