Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/179

 the window stood the mother, In bed the sick son lay; "Will you not get up, William, And see them marching away?"

"I am so ill, O mother, That I cannot hear or see! I think of my dead Maggie, And my heart is broken in me."

"Get up; we will to Kevlaar, Take missal and rosarie; The Mother of God our Saviour Will heal thy heart for thee."