MY mother she's so good to me, If I was good as I could be, I couldn't be as good--no, sir!-- Can't any boy be good as her. She loves me when I'm glad er sad; She loves me when I'm good er bad; An', what's a funniest thing, she says She loves me when she punishes. I don't like her to punish me.-- That don't hurt,--but it hurts to see Her cryin'.--Nen I cry; an' nen We both cry an' be good again. She loves me when she cuts an' sews My little cloak an' Sund'y clothes; An' when my Pa comes home to tea, She loves him most as much as me. She laughs an' tells him all I said, An' grabs me up an' pats my head; An' I hug her, an' hug my Pa, An' love him purt' nigh much as Ma. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER by THOMAS MOORE THE VIOLET by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ALEXANDER VI DINES WITH THE CARDINAL OF CAPUA by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CALLS ON THE HEART by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: SMALL PEOPLE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WEARER OF THE GREEN; TO MY FRIEND JOHN JAMES DONOGHUE, M.D. by DAVID MERRITT CARLYLE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. TO ONE IN TROUBLE by EDWARD CARPENTER |