BALLADS. 107 



She said there was a little bark 



Upon the roaring wave, 

 And there was a woman there who'd been 



To see her husband's grave. 



And she had got a child in her arms, 



It was her only child. 

 And oft its little infant pranks 



Her heavy heart beguiled. 



And there was too in that same bark, 



A father and bis son : 

 The lad was sickly, and the sire 



Was old, and woe-begone. 



And when the tempest waxed strong, 



And the bark could no more it 'bide. 



She said, it was jovial fun to hear 

 How the poor devils cried. 



The mother clasp'd her orpban child 



Unto her breast, and wept : 

 And sweetly folded in her arms, 



The careless baby slept. 



And she told how, in the shape o' the wind, 



As manfully it roar'd. 

 She twisted her hand in the infants hair, 



And threw it overboard. 



And to have seen the mother's pang's, 

 'Twas a glorious sight to see ; 



The crew could scarcely hold her down 

 From jumping in the sea. 



The hag held a lock of the hair in her hand 



And it was soft and fair ; 

 It must have been a lovely child. 



To have had such lovely hair. 



