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TJ-\E VIATORIA 3
BOURSOMNAlt,
ILL~
VOL. XV. DECEMBER, 1897. j: ......,.._,....~~~~w~~~~w~......,--~~~------.-,_,_,_,__,_ ___ ,~-~ - ~--.,..
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~ ONEL Y she sits in her drear attic room , -. Poor Lily , this cold Christmas eve , The thought of the but adds the gloom From her sorrows It brmgs no repneve.
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But fifteen fair summers have passed o 'er her head And cold, freezing winters their snows . Alone in the wide world, her parents both dead , Of her trials ' tis God only knows. 'Oh! God why forsake me, " in anguish the cry. " My life now I hardly can bear, Pray grant me the grace on Thy bosom to die . Or my mind will be shattered , 1 fear. ' ' And , lo, as she ceases to speak there 's a light , And a vision now bursts on her view, Fair maidens with garlands and wings all of white Are floating in bright azure blue. They ' re singin~. some glorious heavenly strain And beckon the maiden to come. She tries . and they teach her the holy refrain , When she ceases her life work is done . Next morning the papers just mentioned the fact , A girl was found starved in her room .. But how could they tell of the angels ' fair act , Taking Lily to heaven to bloom? J. H. N .