[Written for the Sentinel]

Arising at Dawn

A little burden traveled through the air,And as it flew from troubled heart to heart,It grew and magnified each little careWhich mortal thought had made of it a part.

On, on it went, with weariness constrainedTo rest betimes on clouds of gloomy gray;And while it tarried, and as darkness waned,A little angel thought passed by that way.

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June 27, 1914
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