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Our life is but a rosary
Of Hail and then Farewell;
Some never read the mystery
The onyx beads foretell.

They think each bead falls on the ground
And spells another loss:
God gathers them to make a round
And seals it with His cross.

WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.
PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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