THE MAD MOTHER.
Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair,
Her eye-brows have a rusty stain,
And she came far from over the main.
She has a baby on her arm,
Or else she were alone;
And underh the hay-stack warm,
And on the green-wood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among;
And it was in the English tongue.
"Sweet babe! they say that I am mad,
But nay, my heart is far too glad;
And I am happy when I sing
Full many a sad and doleful thing:
Then, lovely baby, do not fear!
I pray thee have no fear of me,
But, safe as in a cradle, here
My lovely baby! thou shalt be,
To thee I know too much I owe;
I ot work thee any woe.
A ?re was ohin my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And ?endish faces owo, three,
Hung at my breasts, and pulled at me.
But then there came a sight of joy;
It came at oo do me good;
I waked, and saw my little boy,
My little boy of ?esh and blood;
Oh joy for me that sight to see!
For he was here, and……（内容加载失败！）
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