Poems (Tynan)/Rosa Spinosa
ROSA SPINOSA
Seven sad swords had Mary's heart, Seven sad wounds to ache and smart; That young rose, her Baby, blowing, Put forth thorns for her undoing: Thorns to pierce the milky breast Where He grew and took His rest.
O my rose of joy and grief,Set with thorns in stem and leaf,As her heart was pierced thorough,So my heart with love and sorrow. Little rose of thorns, come close To the heart you stab so. Rose!