Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/180

 They wave the broad church-banners, They chant the holy song; And through Cologne on the Rhine stream, The procession draws along.

The mother follows the pilgrims, And her sick son leadeth she; And their voices join in the chorale: "Blessèd be thou, Marie!"

The Mother of God at Kevlaar To-day wears her richest dress; To-day she will be right busy, Such numbers come in distress.

And all the poor sick people Bring with them offerings meet; They are little waxen figures, Many waxen hands and feet.

And who a wax hand offers, His hand's wound hurts no more; And who a wax foot offers, His foot is healed of its sore.