Enclosure between the City - wall and the Gate.
(In the niche of the wall a devotional image of the Mater dolorosa, with flower
Margaret (putting fresh flowers in the pots)
Ah, rich in sorrow, thou, Stoop thy maternal brow, And mark with pitying eye
my misery! The sword in thy pierced heart, Thou dost with bitter smart, Gaze
upwards on thy Son's death agony. To the dear God on high, Ascends thy
piteous sigh, Pleading for his and thy sore misery. Ah, who can know The
torturing woe, The pangs that rack me to the bone? How my poor heart,