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T)ivine Lullaby Rest, my Baby, Gift of God, In my arms I hold You fast; Close Your eyelids now, and sleep— Tired those eyes ere life be past. Blest am I, and full of grace, Mother of God's... | ||||
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578 THE COMMONWEAL March 23, 1932 POEMS FOR HOLY WEEK The Cock-crow Out in the south and in from the west, From any fair lands and skies, Where is the bird of roost or nest Sings from... | ||||
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