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8
A PLEA FOR THE
XIX.
English eyes, fresh from their Maker,
Fierce and ravenous, staring through
At the brown loaves of the baker.
XX.
And the Romans are confessing,
"English children pass in bloom
All the prettiest made for blessing.
XXI.
From the mediæval story)
"Such rose angelhoods, emplumed
In such ringlets of pure glory!"
XXII.
O my sisters, calm, unthrilled in
Our heart's pulses? Can we bear
The sweet looks of our own children,