| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
||
|
125
Then Mary plucked a cherry
As red as the blood; Then Mary went home
With her heavy load.
Then Mary took her Babe And sat him on her knee,
Saying, My dear Son, tell me What this world will be.
O, I shall be as dead, Mother, As the stones in the wall;
O, the stones in the streets, Mother, Shall mourn for me all.
Upon Easter-day, Mother,
My uprising shall be ; O, the sun and the moon, Mother,
Shall both rise with me. |
||
|
|
||