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 Mother and child by Eugene Field 
						One night a tiny dewdrop fellInto the bosom of a rose,--
 "Dear little one, I love thee well,
 Be ever here thy sweet repose!"
 
 Seeing the rose with love bedight,
 The envious sky frowned dark, and then
 Sent forth a messenger of light
 And caught the dewdrop up again.
 
 "Oh, give me back my heavenly child,--
 My love!" the rose in anguish cried;
 Alas! the sky triumphant smiled,
 And so the flower, heart-broken, died.
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