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Home Lyrics by H. S. (Hannah S.) Battersby
page 54 of 168 (32%)

Knowing that the Great Father wills that man
Should, through much strife and suffering win that prize,
Whose precious fruits of knowledge wait for all
Who use full well each moment as it flies.

Then let us strive to form each thought, word, deed,
On the exact, undeviating square,
Seeking to learn and discipline ourselves,
And win rewards which all who will may share.

* * * * *






CHRISTMAS MORN.


Dear, happy Christmas! once again
We joy to welcome thee,
With all thy glad surroundings, grouped
For world-wide jubilee.

We'll crown thy peace-illumined brow
With holly burnished bright,
Entwined with glowing crimson buds,
And mystic berries white.
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