he arm--

    quot;God!  of hearing,

    quot;O may ;

    the cold, cold moon above her head,

    thus on her knees did Goody pray,

    Young  she had said,

    And icy-cold urned away.

    complaining all the morrow

    t he was cold and very chill:

    was sorrow,

    Alas! t day for harry Gill!

    t day ,

    But not a he warmer he:

    Anot,

    And ere three.

    tter,

    And blankets  him pinnd;

    Yet still eetter,

    Like a loose casement in the wind.

    And  fell away;

    And all wis plain,

    t, live as long as live he may,

    he never will be warm again.

    No o any man ters,

    A-bed or up, to young or old;

    But ever to ters,

    quot;Poor ;

    A-bed or up, by night or day;

    eetter, cter still.

    Nohink, ye farmers all, I pray,

    Of Goody Blake and harry Gill.