PEASANT SONGS OF SPAIN
1.
When Jesu our Redeemer
To him the twelve did call,
By threes and fours he called them,
Till they were mustered all.
And when they all were mustered,
’Twas thus to them he spake:
“O which of ye, my children,
Will perish for my sake?”
Then, gazing on each other,
They stood abashed and still;
All save Saint John the Baptist,
And Peter of the Hill.
“We’ll die for thee, O Jesus,
Upon to-morrow’s morn.”
For him died John the Baptist,
And suffered pain and scorn.
2.
There stands a stone, a rounded stone,
’Midst ocean’s surges hoary,
On which sweet Jesus set his foot
When mounting to his glory.
There grows a rose, a blooming rose,
’Midst ocean’s briny waters,
That o’er may pass, to hear the mass,
Havanah’s dusky daughters.
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