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Barta

Rating: 2.8

Wide solemn eyes that question me,
Wee hand that pats my head—
Where only two have stroked before,
And both of them are dead.
‘Ah, poo-ah Daddy mine,’ she says,
With wondrous sympathy—
Oh, baby girl, you don’t know how
You break the heart in me!
Let friends and kinsfolk work their worst,
And the world say what it will,

Your baby arms go round my neck—
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