By Livia Ione Young. The rose of New England! Here many waters meet; from further hills and far-off tangled woodland leas, the rivers onward glide to mingle at thy feet - with gathered force to pour their tribute to the seas. The Rose of New England! Thy winding streets and hills; thy towers and turrets rise like feudal castles old; Thy giant trees whose interlacing branches fills in autumn time the fields, with clouds of burnished gold. The Rose of New England! I love to think of thee; thy cherished memories can sooth when sorrows frown, bring back the long loved days, with childish fancies free, and now a fond farewell go thee, Old Norwich Town.