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TREES AND OTHER POEMS

THE FOURTH SHEPHERD (continued) V

The stable glows against the sky,

And who are these that throng the way?

My three old comrades hasten by

And shining angels kneel and pray.

The door swings wide—I cannot go—

I must and yet I dare not see.

Lord, who am I that I should know—

Lord, God, be merciful to me!

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