A little black thing among the snow，

    Crying `'weep！ 'weep！' in notes of woe！

    `Where are thy father and mother， say？'——

    `They are both gone up to the Church to pray

    `Because I was happy upon the heath，

    And smil'd among the winter's snow，

    They clothèd me in the clothes of death，

    And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

    `And because I am happy and dance and sing，

    They think they have done me no injury，

    And are gone to praise God and His Priest and King，

    Who make up a Heaven of our misery.'