Poetry

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


Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
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 ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
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 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

When thou art feeble, old, and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
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 could our Father in the skies
Look down with pleased or loving eyes,
If ever I could dare despise
My Mother



LEARNING THIS POEM/SONG AS A CHILD, INSTILLED IN ME SOME VERY DEEP INATE VALUES , COMING ACROSS IT RECENTLY, AFTER SUCH A LONG TIME MADE MY INWARDS STIR AND I SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL, ESPECIALLY MOTHERS WORLD OVER.

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