Rose of the garden`s roses, what pale wind Has scattered those flushed petals in an hour, And the close leaves of all the alleys thinned, What re-awakening wind, O sad enchantress banished to a flower? Parsifal has out-blushed the roses: dead Is all the garden of the world`s delight. And every rose of joy has drooped its head, And for sweet shame is dead; Sweet joy being shameful in the pure fool`s sight.SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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