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Second Collection. The Motherless Child The zun’d a-zet back tother night, But in the zettèn pleäce The clouds, a-redden’d by his light, Still glow’d avore my feäce. An’ I’ve a-lost my Meäry’s smile, I thought; but still I have her chile, Zoo like her, that my eyes can treäce The mother’s in her daughter’s feäce. O little feäce so near to me, An’ like thy mother’s gone; why need I zay Sweet night cloud, wi’ the glow o’ my lost day, Thy looks be always dear to me. The zun’d a-zet another night; But, by the moon on high, He still did zend us back his light Below a cwolder sky. My Meäry’s in a better land I thought, but still her chile’s at hand, An’ in her chile she’ll zend me on Her love, though she herzelf’s a-gone. O little chile so near to me, An’ like thy mother gone; why need I zay, Sweet moon, the messenger vrom my lost day, Thy looks be always dear to me. William Barnes's other poems:
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