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My child! they gave thee to another,
A woman who was not thy mother.
When from my arms my babe they took, .
On me how strangely did he look!
Through his whole body something ran,
A most strange something did I see;
—As if he strove to be a man,
That he might pull the sledge for me.
And then he stretched his arms, how wild!
Oh mercy! like a little child.

My little joy! my little pride!

In two days more I must have died.

Then do not weep and grieve for me;

I feel I must have died with thee.

Oh wind that o'er my head art flying, .

The way my friends their course did bend,

I should not feel the pain of dying,

Could I with thee a message send.

Too soon, my friends, you went away;

For I had many things to say.

I'll follow you across the snoWj
You travel heavily arid slow:
In spite of all my weary pain,
I'll look upon your tents again.
My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood j
The wolf has come to me to-night,
And he has stolen away my food.
For ever left alone am I,
Then wherefore should 1 fear to die;

My journey will be shortly run,

I shall not see another sun,

I cannot lift my limbs to know

If they have any life or rio;

My poor forsaken child! if I

For once could haTe thee close to nte,

With happy heart I then should die,

And my last thoughts Wduld happy be.

I feel my body die away,

I shall not see astttber dayL


In distant countries I have been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad high-way, I met;
Along the broad high-way he came,
His cheeks with tears were Wet.
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a lamb he had.

He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide:
Then with his coat he made essay-
To wipe those briny tears away.
I follow'd him, and said, "My friend
"What ails you? wherefore weep you so
—" Shame on me, Sir! this lusty lamb,
He makes my tears to flow.
To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock.

When I was young, a single man,
And after youthful follies ran.
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see,
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I numbered a full score,
And every year increas'd my store.

Year after year my stock it grew,

And from this one, this single ewe,

Full fifty comely sheep I raised,

As sweet a flock as ever grazed!

Upon the mountain did they feed;

They throve, and we at home did thrive.,

—This lusty lamb of all my store

Is all that is alive;

And now I care not if we die,

And perish all of poverty.

Six children, Sir! had I to feed,

Hard labour in a time of need!

My pride was tamed, and in our grief,

I of the parish ask'd relief.

They said I was a wealthy man;

My sheep upon the mountain fed,

And it was fit that thence I took

Whereof to buy us bread:"

"Do this; how can we give to you,"

They cried, "what to the poor is due?"


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