The Reading Mother

Strickland Gillilan

1869 to 1954

Poem Image
Track 1

Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.

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True to his trust till his tragic death,
I had a Mother who read to me.
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be —
Of Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,
I had a Mother who read me lays
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath
You may have tangible wealth untold;
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Oh, that each mother of boys were such.
I had a Mother who read me tales
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
I had a mother who read to me
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.
I had a Mother who read me the things
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Which every boy has a right to know.