His blood is true, his heart bold too,
In his soft arms, strength, protection, dwells,
And his face with noble pity swells.
His blood is true, his heart bold too.
Blest the one whom those dear arms may woo!
GIPSY SONG.
In the drizzling mist, with the snow high-piled,
In the winter night, in the forest wild,
I heard the wolves with their ravenous howl,
I heard the screaming note of the owl:
Wille wau wau wau!
Wille wo wo wo!
Wito hu!
I shot, one day, a cat in the ditch—
The dear black cat of Anna the witch;
Upon me, at night, seven were-wolves came down,
Seven women they were, from out of the town.
Wille wau wau wau!
Wille wo wo wo!
Wito hu!
I knew them all; ay, I knew them straight;
First, Anna, then Ursula, Eve, and Kate,
And Barbara, Lizzy, and Bet as well:
And forming a ring, they began to yell:
Wille wau wau wau!
Wille wo wo wo!
Wito hu!
Then called I their names with angry threat:
