The Reading Mother

Strickland Gillilan

1869 to 1954

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Track 1

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

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