Poems (Taylor)/Rosa Mundi
ROSA MUNDI
The Rose of the World hangs high on a thorny Tree.
Whoso would gather must harrow his hands and feet.
But oh! It is sweet.
Whoso would gather must harrow his hands and feet.
But oh! It is sweet.
The leaves that drop like blood from the thorny Tree
Redden the roads of the earth from East to West.
They lie in my breast.
Redden the roads of the earth from East to West.
They lie in my breast.
O Rose, O Rose of the World, bow down to me
Who can cleave no more, so pierced are my hands and feet.
For oh! Thou art sweet.
Who can cleave no more, so pierced are my hands and feet.
For oh! Thou art sweet.