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8.

—Constant blessings, common things,
From these how many a pleasure springs!

51

Take from us water, air, or light,
The world would be but Death and Night!
Would aught survive this night and death?
Ay, Woman's love, and Woman's faith.
Even now that loving Mother's eye,
The while her great loss she could trace,
Was calm as summer waters lie
Whene'er they would entice the sky,
And stoop the stars to their embrace.