'Wife! O wife! bring me brandy in a spoon,
Fol-de-riddle, etc.
For the old miller's sow is in a swoon;'
Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow;
Fol-de-riddle, lol-de-riddle-hi-ding-do.
XXVII. THE BABES IN THE WOOD
Poor babes in the wood, poor babes in the wood,
So hard was the fate of the babes in the wood.
When a child on the knee, how silent I'd be,
While my mother related the story to me.
My dear, you must know that a long time ago,
Two poor little children whose names I don't know,
Were stolen away on a fine summer's day,
And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.
Poor babes in the wood, poor babes in the wood!
So hard was the fate of the babes in the wood.
And when it was night, so bad was their plight,
The sun it went down, and the stars gave no light.
