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12 “O mother dear, now tell me true, 
Why is my gown of darkest hue?” 
“White is the gown of the young bride, 
But dark for her, who bore a child.” 
I 3 As they were walking on their way, 
They heard some passing pilgrims say: 
“Tis meet a widow should wear gown 
Of mourning hue for her lost one.” 
14 “O dearest mother, tell me, pray. 
What do the passing pilgrims say?” 
“My child, the pilgrims say that you 
Are dight in garb of fitting hue.” 
1 5 Within the church at last she stands, 
A lighted taper in her hands. 
“I hear the bells with mournfull toll, 
They ring for a departed soul.” 
16 “I see a tomb, O mother dear, 
More beautiful than any here.” 
“My child, I can no longer hide 
The secret: Your dear John has died. 
17 “My husband dead! Now let me die 
And then beside him let me lie. 
0 mother dear, return you home, 
And cherish well my little one!” 
