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The Pedler of Dust Sticks by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
page 41 of 45 (91%)

In that little room of thine
Sweet sleep has come to thee.
Ah, mother! dearest mother mine!
O, call me to that room of thine;
O, shut it not from me.


I would so gladly be with thee,
And be thy child again.
'Tis cold and stormy here with me.
Tis warm, and O, so still with thee.
O, let me, let me in.


Thou took'st me gladly once with thee,
So gladly held'st my hand!
O, see! thou hast forsaken me.
Take me, this time, again with thee
Into the heavenly land.




EVENING PRAYER.

Thou, from whom we never part;
Thou, whose love is every where;
Thou, who seest every heart,
Listen to our evening prayer.
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