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1844–1911

TO O. W. H.

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

I had no song so wise and sweet, As birthday songs, dear friend, should be. Silent, among a hundred guests, I only prayed for thee.

Such wishes held the speaking lip, Such mood of blessing took me, there, That music, like a bird to heaven, Flew, and was lost in prayer.

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TO O. W. H. · Elizabeth Stuart Phelps · Poetry Cove