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They say man rules the universe,
That subject shore and main
Kneel down and bless the empery
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They say man rules the universe,
That subject shore and main
Kneel down and bless the empery
Of his majestic reign;
But a sovereign, gentler, mightier,
Man from his throne has hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
One woman will brag about her children, while another complains about hers; they could probably swap children without swapping tunes
One woman will brag about her children, while another complains about hers; they could probably swap children without swapping tunes
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.
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.]
Art is the child of Nature; yes, her darling child, in whom we trace the features of the mother's face, read more
Art is the child of Nature; yes, her darling child, in whom we trace the features of the mother's face, her aspect and her attitude.
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 bravest battle that ever was fought;
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps read more
The bravest battle that ever was fought;
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps of the world you will find it not;
It was fought by the mothers of men.
- Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller),
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the read more
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well/
My mother.
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all read more
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.