do not fear this dark night
for I will help thee bloom
do not be weary of thoust plight
for this is where the oak looms
thoust beauty is wondrous to all
and will be sought by many.
those who want to harm you
will come in plenty.
But still do not fret
Thoust life is in mine hands.
Shield thy self in mine leaves
For the rain is harsh.
Hide thyself in mine shade
For the day is long
And the sun be brutal.
I am strong for thee
I am wise for thee
I am a protector, a lover, a child for thee
All for thee. . . because of thee.
Sleep well mine blossom,
dream thy good dreams
I will watch over thee
As taught by thine archaic theme.
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