| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - re, here,' she cried, ' take this !''Oh, no, indeed--I fear your maWould be offended, Miss.''My ma! no, never; she delightsAll sorrow to beguile;And 't is the sweetest joy she feels,To make the wretched smile.'She taught me when I had enough,To share it with the poor;And never let a needy child,Go empty from the door.'So take it, for you need not fearOffending her, you see;I have another, too,
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