Mother Doorstep

Unto the Person kind there came A young girl bearing her fruit of shame: She fell and it had to pay the price - Innocent Lamb of Sacrifice! Lovingly then the Person smiled, Gazing upon the face of the child; Smiled like an ogress - 'Don't despond! - I am of children all too fond.' Then said the mother, speaking low, Kissing the babe she had born in woe: 'Treat him tenderly-nurse him well.' Hotly the tears on the baby fell. Taking the mother's coin with a leer Ogress remarked: 'Don't cry, my dear, Motherly persons to me are known, One is named Wood and another Stone. Cold and yet kind was the nurse's breast; Cold fell the rain on the babe at rest; Pale was his face as an immortelle, Old Mother Doorstep had nursed him well.