My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe in skies so dull and gray;
Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I'll leave you,
For every day.
...
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Another homily for the beloved child- but delivered in gentle sweet words
Who was C.E.G? This was a favourite poem of my grandmothers when she was young. Her initials then were C.E.S but when she married they became C.E.G: -)