Cecil Bruner

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T wo men there were in olden days
Who loved each other well.
To each man was the same fair maid
Dearer than words could tell.
One kissed her hand and rode away,
His heart with sorrow fraught;
Around that cottage threshold grew
The rose called “Friendly Thought.”

Cecil Bruner

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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