If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
If I were dammed of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, mother o' mine o mother o' mine.
Fevers and fluxes are wasting my mother.
Mother, be proud of thy seed!
An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy.
Lair-Right is the right of the Mother.
God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories