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PICTORIAL MISCELLANY, 



My Mother, 



MOTHER, again I see you stand 

 Amid your prattling infant band ; 

 Again, in haste, aside you lay 

 The book you wished to read to-day : 

 Your time is given to us alone, 

 Scarcely a moment seems your own ; 

 Where shall we ever find another 

 To care for us like you, my mother ? 



You wisely train each well-loved chila, 

 Gently you chide the rash and wild ; 

 You tenderly support the meek, 

 And give protection to the weak ; 

 I know that we are deemed to be 

 A fond, united farnilv ; 

 Your influence binds us to each other, - 

 Wo owe our peace to you, my mother. 



