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Show Bereaved. , fct me come In where you sit weeping- aye, I Let fte, who have not any child to die, Weep with yen for the little one whoae love I have known nothing of. The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed Their pressure round your neck; the hands you used fTo kiss such arms such hands I never knew, . - , , May I not weep with you? Fain would I be of service say some thing. L, Between the tears, that would be com- 1 T forting But. ah! so sadder than yourselves am I, V Who have no little chll.I to die. , |