Upon a holy thursday their innocent faces clean
From Chap 11
Upon a holy thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in grey & blue & green
Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands as white as snow
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like thames water flow
O what a multitude they seemd, these flowers of London town
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own
The hum of multitudes were there but multitudes of lambs
[And all in order sit waiting the chief chanters commands]
Thousands of little girls & boys raising their innocent hands
[When the whole multitude of innocents their voices raise
Like angels on the throne of heaven raising the voice of praise]
[Let Cherubim & Seraphim now raise their voices high]
Then like a mighty wind they raise to heavn the voice of song
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heavn among
Beneath them sit the revrend men the guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity lest you drive an angel from your door
After this they all sat silent for a quarter of an hour
[& Mrs Sigtagatist] & Mrs Nannicantipot said it puts me in Mind of my [grand] mothers song
[The voice/The tongues] When the tongues of children are heard on the green
And laughing [upon] is heard on the hill
My heart is at rest within my breast
And every thing else is still
Then come home [children the sun is down] my children the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come Come leave off play & let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies
No No let us play for it is yet day
And we cannot [sleep till its dark] go to sleep
[The flocks are at play & we cant go away]
Besides in the Sky the little birds fly
And the meadows are coverd with Sheep
Well Well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laughd
And all the hills ecchoed
Then [Miss Gittipin] [Tilly Lally sung] [Quid] sung Quid
O father father where are you going
O do not walk so fast
O speak father speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost
The night it was dark & no father was there
And the child was wet with dew
The mire was deep & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew
Here nobody could sing any longer, till Tilly Lally pluckd up a spirit & he sung.
Upon a holy thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in grey & blue & green
Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands as white as snow
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like thames water flow
O what a multitude they seemd, these flowers of London town
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own
The hum of multitudes were there but multitudes of lambs
[And all in order sit waiting the chief chanters commands]
Thousands of little girls & boys raising their innocent hands
[When the whole multitude of innocents their voices raise
Like angels on the throne of heaven raising the voice of praise]
[Let Cherubim & Seraphim now raise their voices high]
Then like a mighty wind they raise to heavn the voice of song
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heavn among
Beneath them sit the revrend men the guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity lest you drive an angel from your door
After this they all sat silent for a quarter of an hour
[& Mrs Sigtagatist] & Mrs Nannicantipot said it puts me in Mind of my [grand] mothers song
[The voice/The tongues] When the tongues of children are heard on the green
And laughing [upon] is heard on the hill
My heart is at rest within my breast
And every thing else is still
Then come home [children the sun is down] my children the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come Come leave off play & let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies
No No let us play for it is yet day
And we cannot [sleep till its dark] go to sleep
[The flocks are at play & we cant go away]
Besides in the Sky the little birds fly
And the meadows are coverd with Sheep
Well Well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laughd
And all the hills ecchoed
Then [Miss Gittipin] [Tilly Lally sung] [Quid] sung Quid
O father father where are you going
O do not walk so fast
O speak father speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost
The night it was dark & no father was there
And the child was wet with dew
The mire was deep & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew
Here nobody could sing any longer, till Tilly Lally pluckd up a spirit & he sung.
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