Poem November 9, 1912 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel.]

REST

EDITH L. PERKINS.

Lie still, little child, on thy mother's breast;Her arms are about thee, and thou canst restSecure in her love, which knoweth best.

O rest, troubled heart, as the years go by,Quiet thy fears, mourn not, nor sigh;Love claimeth thee, and Love is nigh!

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