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I saw the rose-grove blushing in pride, I gathered the blushing rose--and sigh'd-- I come from the rose-grove, mother, I come from the grove of roses. - I Come from the Rose-grove, Mother, (translated by John Bowring) [Roses] The rose looks out in the valley, And thither will I go, To the rosy vale, where the nightingale Sings his song of woe. - The Nightingale, (John Bowring's translation) [Nightingales]
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