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Poem July 27, 1918 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Facing the Light

A. JACQUELINE SHAW

"Whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely ... think on these things."—Phil. iv:8.

One morn, one summer's morn, I saw
A little child who stood and wept
Most bitterly; and asking why,
He said that ever near him kept
A shadow, dark and deep, that went before
His steps, by field or stream or sanded shore.

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