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 underneatack warm,

    And on tone,

    Salked and sung the woods among;

    And it ongue.

    quot;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 cannot 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 once to 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 cools my blood; it cools my 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 comes to cool my 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 underneatree

    e two will live in y.

    If  boy he could forsake,

    itayd:

    From ake,

    But ched made,

    And every day wo will pray

    For s gone and far away.

    Ill teacest things;

    Ill teac sings.

    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.