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Rh But the shapes that they left behind them,
 * The wrinkles and silver hair, —

Made holy to us by the kisses
 * The angel had printed there, —

We will hide away 'neath the willows,
 * When the day is low in the west,

Where the sunbeams cannot find them,
 * Nor the winds disturb their rest.

And we'll suffer no telltale tombstone,
 * With its age and date to rise

O'er the two who are old no longer,
 * In the Father's house in the skies.

Louise Chandler Moulton.

A LITTLE PEACH. peach in an orchard grew,— A little peach of emerald hue; Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,
 * It grew.

One day, passing the orchard through, That little peach dawned on the view Of Johnny Jones and his sister Sue.
 * Them two.

Up at the peach a club they threw: Down from the stem on which it grew Fell the little peach of emerald hue.
 * Brand New!

She took a bite, and John a chew; And then the trouble began to brew,— Trouble the doctor couldn't subdue.
 * Too true!

Under the turf where the daisies grew, They planted John and his sister Sue, And their little souls to the angels flew.
 * Boo-hoo!