Poem -


Of the name for years 
I have longed to call 
"Child" has been justly kept. 
All that I once Loved I call my own. 
Because I so well know 
Of the Heavens above 
The Angel's covet 
That which I lost. 
And no other shows love 
Than the love it never knew. 
How thine beauty  
Is much of your own 
Sainted Mother fair 
Let no one steal 
What life holds forfeit 
Nor the soul that I have lost.  
Thus, to the life I never knew 
As "Child"

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