The Worlds Childhood a Series of Sunday Evening Sermons From Themes Drawn From

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*'Let me hide myself in Thee" — Still I hear it echo there, As she sang it o'er to me, From her swaying rocking-chair; 274 THE WORLD'S CHILDHOOD And I am a boy again, As so sweetly back along Distant years I catch the strain Of that old familiar song.
/'Other refuge have I none" — Often in the long, long years I have missed the touch of one Who could soothe my doubts and f e^rs, One to whom I used to go With each boyish grief and care. Sometimes in the afterglow, I catch glimpses of her there.
...*'Rock of Ages"— and I feel Mother's arms about me prest, As to her embrace I'd steal To be rocked away to rest. Dreamy-like once more I hear Softly, gently, soothingly, That faint echo in my ear: *'Let me hide myself in Thee. " THE DAWN OF GUILT **The eyes of them both were opened and they knew that they were naked. " — Gen. 3 : 7.
SOME time ago passers-by in the streets of Paris were attracted by the figure of a woman on the parapet of a roof. She had fallen asleep in the afternoon, and under the influence of somnambulism had stept out of an open window on to the edge of the house.


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