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This morning I had roses for thee found,
But I did hold them in my girdle bound
So tightly that they tumbled to the ground.


The bonds were broken, and the swift wind bore
Thy gathered roses to the sea-brimmed shore
Over the water to return no more.


The waves seemed red and flaming where they went.
This eve my raiment is still redolent:
Breathe on my bosom, love, their odours blent.