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THE DREAM OF MARY
FROM THE WELSH

"Mary, Mother, art thou asleep?"
Nay, dear Son, but waking and dreaming."
"Mary, Mother, why dost thou weep?"
I saw Thy dear Blood flowing and streaming."

"Mary, Mother, tell me thy dream."
"Blessed Son, thou wert trapped and taken,
Scourged with stripes in a hall didst seem,
Mocked with laughter, despised, forsaken."

"Blessed Mother, thy dream tell all."
"Blessed Son, on a Cross wert lying,
While a black, blind knave from the hall
Pierced Thy heart that was warm from dying."

"Mary, Mother, thy dream is true;
True thy dreaming, sad Mother Mary.
Whether the years be many or few
Still the hunters gain on the quarry."

Over the hill, and a cold, cold hill,
I saw Mary dreaming and weeping,
Making a space betwixt souls and ill,
Snatching men from hell and its keeping.

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