Land of the Rose

“Those who do not consider America ‘the Great Satan’ are simpletons who believe . . . that all our earthly and heavenly problems will immediately be solved, and the country will become the land of the rose and the nightingale!” wrote Kayhan, a hardline paper.

And while to the Land of the Rose went he, Singing alone, In a low love-tone, A Little Maid sat in a Jonquil Tree.

Shall we not break for a time from our record of special tales and let fall on our pages a bit of winter sunshine from the South, the story of a Christmas festival in the land of the rose and magnolia?

O name not the land where the olive-tree grows, Nor the land of the shamrock, nor land of the rose; But shew me the thistle that waves its proud head, O'er heroes whose blood for their country was shed.