As an Irish boy was leaving, leaving his own native home Crossing the broad Atlantic wave, once more, he wished to roam And as he was leaving his mother, while standing on the quay She threw her arms around his waist and this to him did say "A mother's love is a blessing, no matter where you roam Keep her while she's living, for you'll miss her when she's gone Love her as in childhood, now feeble, old and grey Sure you'll never miss your Mother's Love 'til she is buried beneath the clay" And as the years grow onward, he'll settle down in life He'll choose a nice young Irish girl, and he'll take her for his wife And as the kids grow older, and climb upon his knee Sure he'll teach them the very same lesson that my mother, she thought to me A mother's love is a blessing, no matter where you roam Keep her while she's living, for you'll miss her when she's gone Love her as in childhood, now feeble, old and grey Sure you'll never miss your mother's love 'til she is buried beneath the clay No, you'll never miss your mother's love 'til she is buried beneath the clay