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Then he said:
“How can I bear to leave you?”

She spoke with passion:
“Where you are, my son, there am I:
And where you go, I follow …
And when you are in fear and need, as a child again,
Turn even so much as an inch, and you will find your Mother,
Her arms warm about you.”

They kissed good-bye: though he doubted her words.

But as he started forth, not daring to look back,
From the Mother sprang the image or ghost of the Mother,
Like her even to the grey hair about her temples,
And keeping pace with the youth, walked on behind him,
And followed him to the woods.
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