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The Lover

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My friend loves every woman
Young and old and in between—
Be they short and plump,
Or be they long and lean—

And though his heart’s spread thin and shallow,
His eyes are warm and deep;
And every woman near to him
Has known her heart to leap;

But is there one among them
To whom he could be true?
Fair sisters, heed my warning
And don’t believe it’s you;

For there is but one woman
He loves more than any other
And that one and only woman
Is the one that he calls, “Mother.”

Anonymous

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