Page:The Pickering Manuscript.djvu/7

Rh But when they find the frowning Babe Terror strikes thro the region wide They cry the Babe the Babe is Born And flee away on Every side

For who dare touch the frowning form His arm is witherd to its root Lions Boars Wolves all howling flee And every Tree does shed its fruit

And none can touch that frowning form Except it be a Woman Old She nails him down upon the Rock And all is done as I have told

Awake Awake my little Boy Thou wast thy Mothers only joy Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep Awake thy Father does thee keep

O what land is the Land of Dreams What are its Mountains & what are its Streams O Father I saw my Mother there Among the Lillies by waters fair

Among the Lambs clothed in white She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight