The Cupboard.

Mother      What's in that cupboard, Mary?             Mary      Which cupboard, mother dear?             Mother      The cupboard of red mahogany          With handles shining clear.             Mary      That cupboard, dearest mother,          With shining crystal handles?      There's nought inside but rags and jags          And yellow tallow candles.             Mother      What's in that cupboard, Mary?             Mary      Which cupboard, mother mine?             Mother      That cupboard stands in your sunny chamber,          The silver corners shine.             Mary      There's nothing there inside, mother,          But wool and thread and flax,      And bits of faded silk and velvet,          And candles of white wax.             Mother      What's in that cupboard, Mary?          And this time tell me true.             Mary      White clothes for an unborn baby, mother,          But what's the truth to you?