For other versions of this work, see The Beggar Girl.
The Beggar Girl.
Over the mountain, and over the moor,
hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn;
My father is dead, and my mother is poor,
and she grieves for the days that will never return.
Pity kind gentlemen, friends of humanity,
cold blows the wind and the night's coming on
Give me some food for my mother in charity,
give me some food and then I will begone.