Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Moan

The refrain is from Song of Songs 2:5.
Mary speaks.


Within my belly jumped my God
with each step that our donkey trod,
each jar, each kick, each twist, each plod.
It ground my groin and I did groan.
My misery made me to moan,
and yet it was not mine alone.
I shared it with the tiny kid
that in my belly big was his,
for he went through all that I did.
    Revive me with raisins.
    Refresh me with citrons.

And thus we journeyed on and on.
It seemed forever and anon,
only the tax from us to con.
Each road-bend promised a new bend.
I thought we'd never reach the end,
the winding road would ever wend.
When I could do nought but survive,
uncertain if I was alive,
in Bethlehem we did arrive.
    Revive me with raisins.
    Refresh me with citrons.

No room in inn, we stayed instead
where cattle board became our bed,
on which I did collapse as dead.
And yet my babe won't let me sleep,
as in my belly he does leap.
He may be born when dark is deep.
He may be born, but I may die
if I've no charm to close ,y eye
as on this reserved hay I lie.
    Revive me with raisins.
    Refresh me with citrons.

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