her face,

    was enough for me;

    I turned about and heard her cry,

    quot;O misery! O misery!quot;

    And ts, until the moon

    the clear blue sky will go,

    And wtle breezes make

    ters of to shake,

    As all try know,

    She shudders and you hear her cry,

    quot;Oh misery! oh misery!

    XX.

    quot;But s the pond?

    quot;And o her?

    quot;And  comes

    quot;ttle pond to stir?quot;

    I cannot tell; but some will say

    Sree,

    Some say s in the pond,

    tle step beyond,

    But all and each agree,

    ttle babe here,

    Beneat hill of moss so fair.

    XXI.

    Ive  moss is red

    it poor infants blood;

    But kill a ne thus!

    I do not think she could.

    Some say, if to the pond you go,

    And ?x on it a steady view,

    trace,

    A baby and a babys face,

    And t it looks at you;

    , tis plain

    t you again.

    XXII.

    And some  she

    So public justice brought;

    And for ttle infants bones

    it.

    But teous hill of moss

    Before to stir;

    And for full ?fty yards around,

    t she ground;

    But all do still aver

    ttle babe is buried there,

    Beneat hill of moss so fair.

    XXIII.

    I cannot tell his may be,

    But plain it is, thorn is bound

    itufts of moss, t strive

    to drag it to the ground.

    And time,

    ain high,

    By day, and in