"THE INIQUITY OF THE FATHERS".
195
"THE INIQUITY OF THE FATHERS UPON THE CHILDREN."
OH the rose of keenest thorn!
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.
I do not guess his name
Who wrought my Mother's shame.
And gave me life forlorn,
But my Mother, Mother, Mother,
I know her from all other.
My Mother pale and mild,
Fair as ever was seen,
She was but scarce sixteen,
Little more than a child,
When I was born
To work her scorn.
With secret bitter throes,
In a passion of secret woes,
She bore me under the rose.
Who wrought my Mother's shame.
And gave me life forlorn,
But my Mother, Mother, Mother,
I know her from all other.
My Mother pale and mild,
Fair as ever was seen,
She was but scarce sixteen,
Little more than a child,
When I was born
To work her scorn.
With secret bitter throes,
In a passion of secret woes,
She bore me under the rose.
One who my Mother nursed
Took me from the first:
"O nurse, let me look upon
This babe that costs so dear;
To-morrow she will be gone:
Took me from the first:
"O nurse, let me look upon
This babe that costs so dear;
To-morrow she will be gone:
