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A MOTHER'S LOVE IS A BLESSING Traditional (Ireland) An Irish boy was leaving, Leaving his native home, Crossing the broad Atlantic, Once more he wished to roam, And as he was leaving his mother, Who was standing on the quay, She threw her arms around his waist, And this to him did say, Chorus: A mother's love's a blessing, No matter where you roam, Keep her while she's living, You'll miss her when she's gone, Love her as in childhood, Though feeble, old and grey, For you'll never miss a mother's love, Till she's buried beneath the clay. And as the years go onwards, I'll settle down in life, And choose a nice young colleen, And take her for my wife, And as the babes grow older, And climb around my knee, I'll teach them the very same lesson, That my mother taught to me. Chorus (Contributed by Bette Carl - April 2003)

    


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