John McCullagh November 18, 2009
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Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest
And on my cheeks sweet kisses pressed ?
My mother.


When sleep forsook my open eye
Who was it sung sweet lullaby
And rocked me that I should not cry ?
My mother.

Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping in 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 ran to help me when I fell
And would some simple story tell
Or kiss the part to make me well ?
My mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray
To love God’s holy word 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.

Oh 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.

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