Christmas Roses A BUNCH of Christmas Roses, dear,To greet my fairest child,I plucked them in my garden whereThe drifting snow lay piled. I cannot bring thee violets dear,Or cowslips growing wild,Or daisy chain for thee to wear,For thee to wear, my child. For all the grassy meadows nearAre clad with snow, my child;Through all the days of winter drearNo ray of sun has smiled. I plucked this bunch of verses, dear,From out my garden wild,I... more...