her eyes are wild, her head is bare,

        t her coal-black hair,

        y stain,

        And she main.

        She has a baby on her arm,

        Or else she were alone;

        And underack warm,

        And on tone,

        Salked and sung the woods among;

        And it ongue.

        "S babe! t I am mad,

        But nay, my    is far too glad;

        And I am happy when I sing

        Full many a sad and doleful thing:

        t fear!

        I pray thee have no fear of me,

        But, safe as in a cradle, here

        My lovely baby! t be,

        to too much I owe;

        I ot hee any woe.

        A ?re hin my brain;

        And in my head a dull, dull pain;

        And ?endishree,

        my breasts, and pulled at me.

        But t of joy;

        It came at oo do me good;

        I tle boy,

        My little boy of ?esh and blood;

        O sigo see!

        For he was here, and only he.

        Suck, little babe, oh suck again!

        It y blood; it y brain;

        they

        Drahe pain away.

        Otle hand;

        It loosens somet my c;

        About t tight and deadly band

        I feel ttle ?ngers pressd.

        tree;

        It es to y babe and me.

        Otle boy!

        t thers only joy;

        And do not dread the waves below,

        he sea-rocks edge we go;

        t work me harm,

        Nor leaping torrents whey howl;

        the babe I carry on my arm,

        he saves for me my precious soul;

        t am I;

        it me my s babe would die.

        t fear, my boy! for thee

        Bold as a lion I will be;

        And I hy guide,

        through hollow snows and rivers wide.

        Ill build an Indian bower; I know

        t make test bed:

        And if from me t not go,

        But still be true till I am dead,

        My pretty t sing,

        As merry as the birds in spring.

        t for my breast,

        tis t baby, to rest:

        tis all ts hue

        Be c o view,

        tis fair enoughee, my dove!

        My beauty, little child, is ?own;

        But t live h me in love,

        And w if my poor cheek be brown?

        tis    not see

        else would be.

        Dread not taunts, my little life!

        I am thers wedded wife;

        And underree

        e two will live in y.

        If    boy he could forsake,

        itayd:

        From ake,

        But ched made,

        And every day wo will pray

        Fone and far away.

        Ill teacest things;

        Ill teags.

        My little babe! till,

        And t almost suckd thy ?ll.

        -- thou gone my own dear child?

        hose I see?

        Alas! alas! t look so wild,

        It never, never came from me:

        If t mad, my pretty lad,

        t be for ever sad.

        Otle lamb!

        For I ther am.

        My love for tried:

        Ive sougher far and wide.

        I knohe shade,

        I knos ?t for food;

        tty dear, be not afraid;

        ell ?nd the wood.

        Nohe woods away!

        And there, my babe; well live for aye.
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