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His Yeomen, We
When day is done and
God hath wrought
Thru us, His yeomen,
harried and fraught
Droplets of help to
the thirsty few
Who yearn for truth
like cobweb for dew
Then from the
battle, hard won, long fought
Come He, with
peace, like chilled draught
Julie Kay Smithson
March 22, 2005
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