Oh, Infant King, no gold or myrrh
Have I to offer Thee,
For never was a creature poor
As could compare with me.
I vainly loved and poorly prayed. . . .
But Lord, ere You depart,
Accept the wounds man’s law has made
Upon my troubled heart.
Poetósfera › La Biblioteca › Woodrow Wilson
Woodrow Wilson · Vanguardias / s. XX
inglés
Oh, Infant King, no gold or myrrh
Have I to offer Thee,
For never was a creature poor
As could compare with me.
I vainly loved and poorly prayed. . . .
But Lord, ere You depart,
Accept the wounds man’s law has made
Upon my troubled heart.
ws-en-number-3-my-gift--woodrow-wilson-6dee81Las obras de dominio público se reproducen íntegras, con atribución y en la ortografía de su impreso. No pedimos datos personales para avisar de una errata; para otra cosa, escríbenos desde Sobre la casa.