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Though her hair has turned to silver,
I can still see it brown,
On her face there's still a smile,
Like the sun shining down;
And those bright blue eyes that sparkle,
Well, for me they still shine,
My Newfoundland mother of mine.
Spoken: And take it, boys....
That sounds like angels,
Take the song of a dove;
Open up the greatest gift,
That is wrapped in her love;
Pick a red rose from the garden,
That is mellowed with time,
That's my Newfoundland mother of mine.
She lives in Newfoundland,
May God bless her,
Where the fishermen sail out to sea;
And as a child I still recall
How she would hold me,
As she rocked me to sleep on her knee.
Spoken: And take it, boys....
That sounds like angels,
Take the song of a dove;
Open up the greatest gift,
That is wrapped in her love;
Pick a red rose from the garden,
That is mellowed with time,
That's my Newfoundland mother of mine.
She lives in Newfoundland,
May God bless her,
Where the fishermen sail out to sea;
And as a child I still recall
How she would hold me,
As she rocked me to sleep on her knee.
That's my Newfoundland mother of mine.
Recorded by Dick Nolan (My Beautiful Island, 1991, Condor 1500).
