My mother she's so good to me, 
Ef I was good as I could be, 
I couldn't be as good—no, sir!— 
Can't any boy be good as her!

She loves me when I'm glad er sad; 
She loves me when I'm good er bad; 
An', what's a funniest thing, she says 
She loves me when she punishes.

I don't like her to punish me.— 
That don't hurt,—but it hurts to see 
Her cryin'.—Nen I cry; an' nen 
We both cry an' be good again.

She loves me when she cuts an' sews 
My little cloak an' Sund'y clothes; 
An' when my Pa comes home to tea, 
She loves him most as much as me.

She laughs an' tells him all I said, 
An' grabs me up an' pats my head; 
An' I hug her, an' hug my Pa 
An' love him purt' nigh as much as as Ma.

This poem is in the public domain.