THE DUSTY WHITE ROSE.
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BY MRS. VOLNEY E. HOWARD.
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This is not thy place—oh! thou dusty white rose,
This is not thy place, by the dusty highway,
Thou shouldst bud where the murmuring rivulet flows,
And sings itself off through the meadows away.
Yes—there is thy place, on the distant green lea,
Where the sweet hawthorn blossoms, and wild warblers sing.