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Mother wept, and father sigh’d; With delight a-glow Cried the lad, “To-morrow,” cried, “To the pit I go.” Up and down the place he sped, Greeted old and young, Far and wide the tidings spread, Clapp’d his hands and sung. Came his cronies, some to gaze Rapt in wonder; some Free with counsel; some with praise; Some with envy dumb. “May he,” many a gossip cried, “Be from peril kept;” Father hid his face and sighed, Mother turned and wept
Joseph Skipsey
Read poems about / on: father, mother
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