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As it fell out on a cold winter day, the drops of rain did fall.
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Our Savior asked leave of his mother, Mary, if He might go play at ball.
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"Go up the hill," His mother said, "and there you will find three jolly children.
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But let me hear no complaint of You when You come home again."
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But the children said, "We are royal sons and we will not play at ball,
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For You are but a poor maid's child, born in an oxen stall."
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"If you are Lord's and Ladies' sons and you will not play at ball.
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I'll build you a bridge of the beams of the sun to play upon us all."
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And He built them a bridge of the beams of the sun and over the pools they played, all three,
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And the mothers called, "Mary, call home your child," their eyes all drowned in tears.
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Mary mild (Mary mild, Mary mild), Mary mild (Mary mild) called home her Child.
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And when she asked Him, "Why?" Said He,
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"Oh, I built them a bridge of the beams of the sun so they would play at ball with me.
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So they would play with me."
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MARY MILD
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| Bob Shane/Tom Drake/Miria |
