The Sick RoseO Rose, thou art sick.The invisible worm That flies in the nightIn the howling stormHas found out thy bed Of crimson joy,And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
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The Sick RoseO Rose, thou art sick.The invisible worm That flies in the nightIn the howling stormHas found out thy bed Of crimson joy,And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
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