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Show -T THE MOTHER. By Charles Hanson Towne.' She was? fo tired of toil of everything - Save loving those who needed all her love. Her heart was like the golden heart of Spring When white clouds sail above. Autumn of life and tear? were hers: and yet ' She sang, and loved, and gladdened us the while. Nor storms nor snow could make her once forget - . Young April's radiant smile. She was so weary; but wc never, guessed How weary, till she smiled at set of sun, And whispered, as she drifted into rest "My loving now is done." ! "Tired of all-save loving!" Let this be The epitaph inscribed where now she Hep. Time shall not hide the words, nor memory The love-look of her eyes. A |