Classic Poem

Suddenly afraid,
Half waking, half sleeping,
And greatly dismayed —
A woman sat weeping,
With favour in her face far passing my reason.
And of her sore weeping this was the enchason,
Her Son in her lap lay slain, she said, by treason.
If weeping might ripe be, it seemed then in season.
" Jesus, " so she sobbed
So her Son was bobbed
And of His life robbed.
She added these words that I tell thee:
" Who cannot weep, come learn of me. "
I said I could not weep I was so hard-hearted,
She answered me shortly with wordes that smarted:
" Lo! nature shall move thee, thou must be converted;
Thine own Father this night is dead " . This she retorted.
" Jesus, so my Son is bobbed
And of His life robbed. "
For sooth then I sobbed.
She added these words looking at me:
" Who cannot weep, come learn of me " .

" Now break heart I pray thee, this cors lies so rewlie;
So beaten, so wounded, ill-treated so foully.
What wight may behold Thee and weep not? None truly
To see my dead dear Son, bleeding, lo, thus newly. "
Ever still she sobbed
So her Son was bobbed
And of His life was robbed.
Renewing these words that I say thee:
" Who cannot weep, come learn of me " .

On me she cast her eye and said: " See man thy Brother! "
She kissed Him and said: " Sweet, am I not Thy mother? "
And swooning she fell, this pitiful mother;
They both looked as deadly, the one and the other.
Yet she revived and sobbed
How her Son was bobbed
And of His life was robbed.
" Who would not weep? " — this is her lay;
And with these last words she vanished away.