MUSIC: The
Rose Lyric's are at the
bottom of the page.
My great great grandparents
You will not find this picture in the Musee de Quebec,
since I have merged two pictures of my great great grandparents photographically.
My great grandparents - Vital and
Emelie (Hebert) Bourassa
Many thanks to Anne Bourassa, daughter of Henri Bourassa,
for these pictures.
My grandparents
The Bourassa Family moves to Winooski, Vermont on
1 April 1910
The Bourassa Family of Winooski, Vermont - circa
1928
Alphonse, Reine Kelty, Marguerite Villemaire, Marie Anna
Poissant/Fisher, and Joseph
Albina, Mother-Vitaline Leblanc Bourassa, and Robertine
The Bourassa Family of Winooski, Vermont -
1976
Lyrics of "The Rose"
Some say love,
It is a river that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love,
It is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love,
It is a hunger, an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you its only seed.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dying,
that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely,
And the road has been to long,
And you think that love is only for
The lucky and the strong
Just remember
in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.