To a Past Master
Who's the stranger, Mother dear?
Look, he knows us - ain't he queer!
Hush, my son. Don't talk so wild.
He's your Father, dearest child.
He's my father? t'isn't so!
Father died eight years ago.
He didn't die, O child of mine,
He's just been going through the line.
But he's been Master now,
so he
Has no place to go you see.
No place left for him to roam,
And that's why he's coming home!
- Bro. Walter Belt
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