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THE AFRICAN'S MOTHER
Fem with a rare temperament
The source of resources
Our mother in me,
This's the tales of the African’s
mother
Souring according to the maxim
Yes she is many but only
Under these sphere,
In the sense soul brothers and
sisters can hope to
No wonder we name her after
Thought the best of our features
And purposes we see it through
her
Where ever we are.
Yet their mothers still roam
within
As she herald whilst we ride on
sure best encore
Despite she was the byre-
woman in their byre
African mother your journey to
the edge the earth no
even body is weighed
of your childrens limes
yet a mother to the great black
Cad
Now our paw is matured in your
own ween
As you bestride over us
the natural eau in our
naive
Still we tuck and gave yours out
from sure your echoes
On the land of gaunt they found
you
Invincible as quaint.
African mother you are seen
Girding best of the wax
Around your wonderful hue’
day-about
which made us appreciates the
virtues in woman affiance
When no other mother if your
kind genteel wherefore
guess as our custom bids
yet loiter when you
address
As the best, Not among the.
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