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The very spot where grew the bread that formed my bones, I see. How strange, old field, on thee to tread, and feel I'm part of thee.

Abraham Lincoln
Fields, Bread, Strange
Abraham Lincoln (2008). “The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln”, p.370, Wildside Press LLC
The very spot where grew the bread that formed my bones, I see. How strange, old field, on thee to tread, and feel I'm part of thee.