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To Edith.
by Francis William Lauderdale Adams"My sweet, my child, through all this night
Of dark and wind and rain,
Where thunder crashes, and the light
Sears the bewildered brain,
"It is your face, your lips, your eyes
I see rise up; I hear
Your voice that sobs and calls and cries,
Or shrills and mocks at fear.
"O this that's mine is yours as well,
For side by side our feet
Trod through these bitter brakes of hell.
Take it, my child, my sweet!"