| Nature, the gentlest mother
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| Impatient of no child
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| The feeblest or the waywardest, —
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| Her admonition mild
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| In forest and the hill
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| By traveller is heard
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| Restraining rampant squirrel
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| Or too impetuous bird
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| How fair her conversation
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| A summer afternoon, —
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| Her household, her assembly;
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| And when the sun goes down
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| Her voice among the aisles
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| Incites the timid prayer
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| Of the minutest cricket
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| The most unworthy flower
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| When all the children sleep
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| She turns as long away
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| As will suffice to light her lamps;
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| Then, bending from the sky
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| With infinite affection
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| And infiniter care
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| Her golden finger on her lip
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| Wills silence everywhere |