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128

Thy patient smiles, thy gentleness,
But deeper wring my heart,
And make me feel, with new distress,
My Baby! must we part?

O God forbid! in hope I feel
Perchance the worst is o'er,
And thou mayest live to cheer us still,
Bright, joyous as before.
And may we strive to make that life
Thine endless blessing prove,
Or, if thou must depart, believe
That thou art safe above!

E.

Hastings, April 26, 1839.