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The Mother Moon

by Louisa May Alcott

The moon upon the wide, wide sea,
All placidly looks down,
And smileth with her gentle face,
Though billows rage and frown.
Dark clouds may dim her brightness,
But soon they pass away,
And she shines out unaltered
O'er the little waves at play.
And 'mid the calm or tempest,
Wherever she may go,
Led on by her persuasion,
The restless sea must flow.

Just as the tranquil summer moon
Looks on the troubled sea,
Thy mother's calm and tender face,
Dear child, is watching thee.
Then banish every tempest,
Chase all your clouds away,
That in her smile-light placidly
Your happy heart may play!
Let cheerful looks and actions
Like shining ripples flow,
Obedient to the mother's will,
And singing as they go.

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