There's a Little Old Woman walks in the night, <br />Singing her love song like a falling keen; <br />The Little Old Woman is the heart's delight, <br />With the gold crown under her hood to tell her queen. <br /> <br />The Little Old Woman's coming up this way, <br />Playing on her harp-strings a magic air; <br />There's this one and that one, they may not stay, <br />Stealing out in the night after the player. <br /> <br />The Little Old Woman is at the door, <br />Though 'tis a queen she is, in rags she goes, <br />Open the door to her, long-waited for! <br />Oh, Love and Delight you are, the Dear Black Rose. <br /> <br />The Little Old Woman she is begging bread; <br />She shall never go hungry while the ages pass, <br />With the love of her lovers she shall be fed <br />And their hearts lie under her feet in the green grass. <br /> <br />They go from the lit board and the fire of peat <br />And the dreams and the longing stir in the blood. <br />Sweet to be poor with her, yea, death is sweet, <br />For the Dear Rose of Beauty in the beggar's hood.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-old-woman/
