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[Page 163]

[See Page 164]

(A Child's Shoe)

Mute "pathetic relic" from out the peaceful past
What memories awaken, of the one who wore thee last
'Round you my vagrant fancy, a story sad doth weave
For a little kiddie owned you, 'Tis easy to perceive
Just a baby's tiny slipper, lying all forlorn
Amid the scattered debris, that was once a happy home
Yet you speak of tears and laughter, baby prattle, mother's love
While you shriek aloud for vengeance to He who dwells Above

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