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Your Father's Arms

O child, not meant to end this way, Thy perfect limbs, so disarrayed; So fearful, wondrous made you are, Then swept away, but not the scar. My heart does break, my spirit weeps, A mother's bond should be for keeps. No longer can the world bring harm, Rush swiftly to your Father's arms.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things