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I Thy g 
Hl The v 
iil eV 
Hi MOTHER’S DIRGE OVER HER CHILD While 
i) In wid 
WANE) BY D. M. MOIR. 
iy No tai 
KW) Brine me flowers all young and sweet, Herd 
That I may strew the winding-sheet, And G 
Where calm thou sleepest, baby fair, like a 
With roseless cheek and auburn hair. : 
ea! 
Bring me the rosemary, whose breath Above 
Perfumed the wild and desert heath ; To joi 
The lily of the vale, which too, That 2 
In silence and in beauty grew. 
I thou; 
Bring cypress from some sunless spot, That t 
Bring me the blue forget-me-not ; And 0: 
That I may strew them o’er thy bier, The b 
With long-drawn sigh and gushing tear. 
But th 
Oh, what upon this earth doth prove To lea 
So steadfast as a mother’s love! lake | 
Oh, what on earth can bring relief And | 
Or solace to a mother’s grief! 
Parew 
No more my baby shalt thou lie, At noc 
With drowsy smiles and half-shut eye, And d 
Pillow’d upon my fostering breast, Revive 
Serenely sinking into rest! 

