Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY MOTHER, by GEORGE WASHINGTON BETHUNE

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MY MOTHER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I never call that gentle name
Last Line: As those his mother's faith shed o'er his youth.
Subject(s): Mothers

I NEVER call that gentle name,
My mother! but I am again
E'en as a child; the very same
That prattled at thy knee; and fain
Would I forget, in momentary joy,
That I no more can be thy happy boy.

I've lived through foreign lands to roam,
And gazed on many a classic scene;
But oft the thought of that dear home,
Which once was ours, would intervene,
And bid me close again my languid eye,
To think of thee and those sweet days gone by.

I've pored o'er many a yellow page
Of ancient wisdom, and have won
Perchance a scholar's name; yet sage
Or poet ne'er have taught thy son
Lessons so pure, so fraught with holy truth,
As those his mother's faith shed o'er his youth.

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