My Mother
Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush'd me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.
When sleep forsook my open eyes,
Who was it sung sweet lullaby,
And soothed me that I should not cry?
My Mother.
Who sat and watch'd my infant head,
When sleeping on my cozy bed;
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.
Who lov'd to see me pleased and gay,
And taught me sweetly how to play,
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.
Who ran to help me when I fell.
And would some pretty story tell.
Or kiss the place and make it well?
My Mother.
Who taught my infant heart to pray,
And love God's holy book and day;
And taught me wisdom's pleasant way?
My Mother.
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me,
My Mother?
Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.
And when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.
For God, who lives above the skies,
Would look with vengeance in his eyes,
If I should ever dare despise
My Mother.
~ Anne Taylor
Poem obtained from Making-Greeting-Cards.
Thanks for sharing this, Mavis. It's beautiful and so true.
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