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“Indeed (the wan strayed Mary said)
Till Henry eats I’ll eat no more;
For yesterday I got some bread,
He’s had none since the day before.”
My heart did swell, my bosom heave,
I felt as tho’ depriv’d of speech,
silent sat upon the grave,
And press’d a clay cold hand of each.
With looks that told a tale of woe,
With sighs that spoke the feeling heart,
The shivering boy did nearer draw,
And thus their tale of woe impart.—
“Before our Father went away,
Entic’d by bad men o’er the sea.
Sister and I did nought but play.
We liv’d beside yon great ash tree.
But then poor Mother did so cry.
And look’d so chang’d I cannot tell,
She told us that she soon would die.
And bade us love each other well,
