Weep, o Weep, o Bethlehem
Weep, o weep, o Bethlehem, For your children are slain by Herod’s hand; The cold desert wind now howls through the land, Maternal sobbing - father sighs, For youth has been ruddied, Their flow runs the gutters Spilled on the highway for Rome. O! Bethlehem, your sorrow is now deemed, Poured into the... Sign in to see full entry.