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 The Cathedral was cold, With its dim solemn aisles, But outside our friends found The sun waiting, with smiles, To show them their way, So hither they came Along an old street With a hard French name.

And still walking onward, Through streets we can't see, At length reached the Crèche Of "Sœur Rosalie"— Where poor women's children Are kept all day through, Amused, taught, and tended, And all for one sou.