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To the Wheatfield
Give us this day our daily bread.
"Oh wheat," the wind, in passing, said,
"'Tis you that answer everywhere
This call of Life's incessant prayer;
Bow, then, in reverence your head,
For 'tis the Master's gift you bear."
John B. Tabb
Tabb's Poetry:
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Web Page © 2000 ELC The Webster Lane Core Jr.
(Created April 29, 2000; revised May 18)