THE BURDEN
One grief on me is laidEach day of every year,Wherein no soul can aid,Whereof no soul can hear:Whereto no end is seenExcept to grieve again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where is there greater pain?To dream on dear disgraceEach hour of every day—To bring no honest faceTo aught I do or say:To lie from morn till e’en—To know my lies are vain—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where can be greater pain?To watch my steadfast fearAttend my every wayEach day of every year—Each hour of every day:To burn, and chill between—To quake and rage again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where shall be greater pain?One grave to me was given—To guard till Judgment Day—But God looked down from HeavenAnd rolled the Stone away!One day of all my years—One hour of that one day—His Angel saw my tearsAnd rolled the Stone away!
One grief on me is laidEach day of every year,Wherein no soul can aid,Whereof no soul can hear:Whereto no end is seenExcept to grieve again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where is there greater pain?To dream on dear disgraceEach hour of every day—To bring no honest faceTo aught I do or say:To lie from morn till e’en—To know my lies are vain—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where can be greater pain?To watch my steadfast fearAttend my every wayEach day of every year—Each hour of every day:To burn, and chill between—To quake and rage again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where shall be greater pain?One grave to me was given—To guard till Judgment Day—But God looked down from HeavenAnd rolled the Stone away!One day of all my years—One hour of that one day—His Angel saw my tearsAnd rolled the Stone away!
One grief on me is laidEach day of every year,Wherein no soul can aid,Whereof no soul can hear:Whereto no end is seenExcept to grieve again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where is there greater pain?
One grief on me is laid
Each day of every year,
Wherein no soul can aid,
Whereof no soul can hear:
Whereto no end is seen
Except to grieve again—
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where is there greater pain?
To dream on dear disgraceEach hour of every day—To bring no honest faceTo aught I do or say:To lie from morn till e’en—To know my lies are vain—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where can be greater pain?
To dream on dear disgrace
Each hour of every day—
To bring no honest face
To aught I do or say:
To lie from morn till e’en—
To know my lies are vain—
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where can be greater pain?
To watch my steadfast fearAttend my every wayEach day of every year—Each hour of every day:To burn, and chill between—To quake and rage again—Ah, Mary Magdalene,Where shall be greater pain?
To watch my steadfast fear
Attend my every way
Each day of every year—
Each hour of every day:
To burn, and chill between—
To quake and rage again—
Ah, Mary Magdalene,
Where shall be greater pain?
One grave to me was given—To guard till Judgment Day—But God looked down from HeavenAnd rolled the Stone away!One day of all my years—One hour of that one day—His Angel saw my tearsAnd rolled the Stone away!
One grave to me was given—
To guard till Judgment Day—
But God looked down from Heaven
And rolled the Stone away!
One day of all my years—
One hour of that one day—
His Angel saw my tears
And rolled the Stone away!
THE END