My Mother

Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast 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 they care,
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.

by Ann Taylor

Comments (92)

My mother is a very lovely poem
My mother is a very gorgeous poem
i love this poem, because it is so affectionate.
i love u mum. may you wait to eat the fruit of your labour.
I loved this poem as a child. I love it more now. It makes me remember my late mother who was so very kind to me. I can't forget her carrying me on her back on cold mornings for Mass. I remember so much of her as I read this poem. God bless mothers.
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