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1828–1899

TO FRANCES

Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall

Dear love, life has dewy mornings, And the shadeless blaze of noon, Flowers, that we stop to gather, That fade from our hands so soon

Dear love, there are meetings, partings, We have sunshine, we have shade, There's no continuing city That our human hands have made

We go onward, joy and sorrow Checkers all the path we tread, But our Father loves His children And with loving care they're led.

Dear love, His great wisdom chooseth The path that we both have trod, And through storm, and calm, and sunshine, We rest in the hand of God

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TO FRANCES · Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall · Poetry Cove