God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers.~Jewish Proverb
Of all the rights of women, the greatest is to be a mother.
~Lin Yutang
My MotherWho fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My MotherWhen sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet lullaby
And rocked me that I should not cry?
My MotherWho sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping in my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My MotherWhen pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye
And wept, for fear that I should die?
My MotherWho ran to help me when I fell
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the part to make it well?
My MotherWho taught my infant lips to pray,
To love God's holy word and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My MotherAnd can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee
Who wast so very kind to me, —
My MotherOh no, the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My MotherWhen thou art feeble, old and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My MotherAns when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed, —
My Mother- Jane TaylorTags:
Mother's Day,
Love,
Poem