Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/292

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248
CHILD POEMS.


Clinging hands must loose me, loose me,
Kissing lips be dry ;
Longing eyes grow dim and dreamy,
Curls in quiet lie.
Baby must in peace forget me,
And his love must die ;
Hush thee, dear, though I be weeping,
Soon' our days go by.