Page:Songs of the Soul (1923).djvu/13

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At Thy feet I come to showerAll my full heart’s rhyming flower,Of Thy breath born,By Thy love grown,With my lonely seeking found,By hands Thou gavest picked and bound;—For Thee the sheavesWithin these leaves:—Of my life’s seasonThe choicest flowers,With petals soulful spread,Their humble perfume shed;—Hands folded now I come to giveWhat’s Thine—receive!

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