The Little Native Rose Poem by Henry Lawson
The Little Native Rose
There is a lasting little flower,
That everybody knows,
Yet none has thought to think about
The little Native Rose.
The wattle and the waratah—
The world has heard of those;
But who, outside Australia, kens
The little Native Rose.
Yet first for faint, far off perfume,
That lives where memory goes;
And first of all for fadelessness—
The little Native Rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/28/2026 6:02:02 AM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
