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And when they saw the darksome night
They sat them down and cried.
Thus wander’d these two pretty babes,
Till death did end their grief;
In one another’s arms they died,
As babes wanting relief.
No burial these pretty babes
Of any man receives;
But Robin-red-breast carefully
Did cover them with leaves.
And now the heavy wrath of God
Upon their uncle fell;
Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house,
His conscience felt a hell:
His barns were fir’d, his goods consum'd
His lands were barren made,
His cattle died within the field,
And nothing with him staid.
And, in a voyage to Portugal,
Two of his sons did die;
And to conclude, himself was brought
To extreme misery:
He pawn’d and mortgag'd all his land
