Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/231

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No, sir! he wuzn't afeard to die;
For all night long he seemed to see
His little boys of the days gone by,
An' to hear sweet voices forgot by me!
An' just as the mornin' sun come up—
"They're holdin' me by the hands!" he cried,
An' so he died.

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