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The bearing and the training of a child
Is woman's wisdom.
The bearing and the training of a child
Is woman's wisdom.
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopped;
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The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopped;
But I had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.
A girl is Innocence playing in the mud, Beauty standing on its head, and Motherhood dragging a doll by the read more
A girl is Innocence playing in the mud, Beauty standing on its head, and Motherhood dragging a doll by the foot
Fostering mother.
[Lat., Alma mater.]
Fostering mother.
[Lat., Alma mater.]
The mother says to her daughter: Daughter bid thy daughter, to
her daughter, that her daughter's daughter is crying.
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The mother says to her daughter: Daughter bid thy daughter, to
her daughter, that her daughter's daughter is crying.
[Lat., Mater ait natae die natae filia natum
Ut moneat natae plangere filiolam.]
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So read more
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on, and yet within a month--
Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she--
O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.
If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know read more
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!
At the cross, her station keeping,
Stood the mournful mother, weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord.
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At the cross, her station keeping,
Stood the mournful mother, weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord.
[Lat., Stabat mater, dolorosa
Juxta crucem lacrymosa
Que pendebat Filius.]
A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she read more
A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.