The Reading Mother
by Strickland Gililan (1869-1954)
I had a mother who read to meSagas of pirates who scoured the sea,Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,“Blackbirds” stowed in the hold beneath
I had a Mother who read me laysOf ancient and gallant and golden days;Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,Which every boy has a right to know.
I had a Mother who read me talesOf Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,True to his trust till his tragic death,Faithfulness blent with his final breath.
I had a Mother who read me the thingsThat wholesome life to the boy heart brings-Stories that stir with an upward touch,Oh, that each mother of boys were such.
You may have tangible wealth untold;Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.Richer than I you can never be —I had a Mother who read to me.
