Oh, mother, such a stranger comes this way!
I saw him as I climbed the olive tree
To break the branches for my crucifix—
tall, fair youth with floating yellow curls.
Is he an angel?
Maria. Silly darling, peace!
No longer dwell the angels on the earth,
And see, he comes.
Raphael. Madonna mia, hail!
God bless thee and thy cherubim!