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 (8)

Powerful!
Colossal bullshit. Great poem.
A new sign in front of Liberty of Statue New Colossus closed for restoration Can not accept the tired and desolate Hungry and homeless beaten by fate Date of opening to be announced soon!
This used to be what America stood for. No longer. Tragic. And, the wording is perfect.
A beautiful piece on the Statue Of Liberty - The Symbol of US Freedom. A lovely piece of poetry, penned with insight.
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