The table was fixed and the cloth was spread,
And on it put bread and wine:
"Come sit you down, my three little babes, And eat and drink of mine."
"We will neither eat your bread, dear mother, Nor we'll neither drink your wine; For to our Saviour we must return To-night or in the morning soon." The bed was fixed in the back room; On it was some clean white sheet, And on the top was a golden cloth, To make those little babies sleep.
"Wake up! wake up!" says the oldest one,
"Wake up! its almost day. And to our Saviour we must return To-night or in the morning soon.
"Green grass grows at our head, dear mother, Green moss grows at our feet; The tears that you shed for us three babes, Won't wet our winding sheet."
GEORGE COLLINS
George Collins rode home one cold winter night, George Collins rode home so fine, George Collins rode home one cold winter night, He taken sick and died.
