When Jesus Christ was yet a child

 He had a garden small and wild

 Where in he cherished roses fair 

And wove them into garlands there 

Then once upon a time drew nigh

 There came a group of children by

 And seeing roses on the tree

 With shouts they plucked them merrily

 Do you bind roses in your hair

 They cried in scorn to Jesus there
The boy said humbly take I pray

 all but the naked thorns away

 And of the thorns they made a crown

 And with rough fingers pressed it down

 Well on his forehead fair and young

 Red drops of blood like roses sprung

 When Jesus Christ was yet a child

 He had a garden small and wild

 Where in he cherished roses fair

 Which still grow there for all to share.