khajiits' Clan

Tokens for the little children
To enter heaven's gate
To each a special token
To seal their earthly fate.

For the bishop who is hiding
'neath the cloak of the youthful king
A token for all the children
And a shroud to bury them in.

See their small white faces
So precious and so pure
Buried outside the church yard
In Spitalsfield they were interred.

Angels sing them to their sleep
Deep rosey rings so deeply woven
So soft their breath that doth deceive
Such pallor the lord hath chosen.

As Mothers receive their token
Their children seven more
Suffer the little children
God, the father shall endure.