‘He neither shall be christen’d
In white wine nor red,
But with fair spring water
With which we were christenèd.
iii
XVI
Then Mary took her young son
And set him on her knee;
‘I pray thee now, dear child,
Tell how this world shall be.’—
XVII
‘O I shall be as dead, mother,
As the stones in the wall;
O the stones in the street, mother,
Shall mourn for me all.
XVIII
‘And upon a Wednesday
My vow I will make,
And upon Good Friday
My death I will take.
XIX
‘Upon Easter-day, mother,
My uprising shall be;
O the sun and the moon, mother,
Shall both rise with me!’