The poem
Here, a little child, I stand, Heaving up my either hand: Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to thee, For a benison to fall On our meat, and on us all. Amen.
8,657 poems196 poets · 750 BC to todaySince 2003

The poem
Here, a little child, I stand, Heaving up my either hand: Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to thee, For a benison to fall On our meat, and on us all. Amen.
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