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Yet, Susan, dear, however sweet
True friendship's links are twined, To render them still more complete, O, let us at the Saviour's feet The sacred offering bind.
THE DRUNKARD'S- CHILD.
Snows were falling thick and dismal;
Winds were howling sadly by; Clouds of deepest gloom were sailing
Fearfully along the sky.
In a far off, lonely dwelling, List'ning to the tempest wild,
Sat a mother sadly silent, Gazing on her only child.
Glad she was to see him silent, For his busy, prattling tongue
Had her fond, maternal bosom With the deepest anguish wrung.
He had talk'd of days of sunshine, When his father's step would come,
At the stilly hour of evening,
Flinging gladness round their home;
When his voice was always cheerful, When he smiled and kiss'd his sonó