Excerpt from A Booklet of VerseEre yet we have done with play. But sweet it is To know what breast shall pillow us in sleep When tired at last.See, see! Life's God is nigh, Thy Son Of laughter and heroic toils, Him we acknowledge in thy holy stead, Not holier, but dearer unto us, And dear to thee, thy very Son, thy self, TO whom thou gavest us, to be his own! 0 thou wilt punish not who hold by him, Loyally his, not thine, with fervent soul Wor...
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