Mother and child by Eugene Field
One night a tiny dewdrop fell Into the bosom of a rose,-- "Dear little one, I love thee well, Be ever here thy sweet repose!"
Seeing the rose with love bedight, The envious sky frowned dark, and then Sent forth a messenger of light And caught the dewdrop up again.
"Oh, give me back my heavenly child,-- My love!" the rose in anguish cried; Alas! the sky triumphant smiled, And so the flower, heart-broken, died.
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