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MY first is good when it ’s alone; The best ones are our mothers’; And though we have it of our own, We ’re apt to take another’s. In many devious paths we stray When by my first we ’re beckoned; And by my first we ’re dragged away, Or else we are my second. Sometimes my second may be shot, Which brings much grief and dole; But when my second’s very hot It cannot be my whole.