"0, was it on that awful road,
The way of death, you came?"
"It was a little road," he said,
"I never knew its name."
"Is it not rough along that road?"
"I cannot tell," said he,
"Up to your gate, in her two arms.
My mother carried me."
"And will you show me Christ?" he said,
"And must we seek Him far?"
"That is our Lord, with children round.
Where little blue-bells are."
"Why, so my mother sits at night,
When all the lights are dim!
0, would He mind, would it be right
If I should sit by Him?"