Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/363

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A SHEAF GLEANED

Embrace us then, O dearest mother,
Press us well upon thy heart,
Our place accustomed, now and ever,
In joys, and when those joys depart,
Oh, what is there so good or precious
As a gentle mother's love?
On this earth, the only treasure
Sent us from the heavens above.

A.