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The Young Botanist, by Paul Peel
Robert L. Martin

Maternal Guardians

Little baby, my precious child
Oh dawn of life, nativity beguiled
You came to me from heaven sent
Love so pure, love so permanent
 
Together we keep love in its flowing
Our constant reverence steadily growing
Eternal wisdom shall fill our satchels
As we travel along as life foretells
 
If you trip along the precipitous way
My heart extends come what or may
Your pain shall enter my soul on cue
Demanding my selfish pride to undo
 
I give my all to what you so desire
A mountain of gold, an angel’s lyre
A maternal mystery unexplained
Why I love you all the same
Love’s authority came into my house
As I gave in and became a slave to it

I can imagine how mothers feel about their children. I hope I'm right

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