“Oh Mother, Mother make my bed Make it soft and narrow My William died for love of me, And I shall die of sorrow They buried her in the old churchyard. Sweet William's grave was nigh hers And from his grave grew a red, red rose And from her grave a brier. They grew and grew up the old church spire Until they could grow no higher And there they twined, in a true love knot, The red, red rose and the brier.”
Quote by Cassandra Clare
Author
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