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To My Daughter Nora on Her Tenth Birthday

Since when thou earnest, with thy native charms,
A weeping infant to thy mother’s arms,
Ten fleeting years have lifted up thy head
Unto my breast; ten years of love are fled,
But all their store of innocence and bliss
Remains with thee; thy mother’s and my kiss
Seal it forever thine! Those guileless ways
Which, walking, have filled up thy tender days,
May’st thou for ever keep; may thy pure heart
Keep always pure, that no unholy dart
Pierce it with anguish; may remorse and pain
Shrink from thy hallowed presence, and no stain
Soil thy white robes of peace. O! be thou sure
Bliss follows in the footsteps of the pure.
And whatsoe’er shall tempt of wrong or strife,
Hold fast the rare gem of a blameless life;
Nor lose, nor lightly hold, but bind to thee
The priceless jewel of thy purity.

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« Love’s Conquest   |   The Inward Purity »

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James Allen

James Allen was a little-known philosophical writer and poet. He is best recognized for his book, As a Man Thinketh. Allen wrote about complex subjects such as faith, destiny, love, patience, and religion but had the unique ability of explaining these subjects clearly and in a way that is easy to understand. He often wrote about cause and effect, sowing and reaping, as well as overcoming sadness, sorrow, and grief. For more information on the life of James Allen, click here.

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