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 (3)

Amazing mam.............
Some may wish you harm for all your evil doings, To die a lonely man, But all i wish from you, Is to see the error in your ways, Because i all i can ever be is me. it is very true i can be i only.. beautiful write....10 read mine it's me.... individual....
Very true, just be yourself, nice piece regards Tom