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 smiled among the winter’ s snow,
They clothed 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 made up a heaven of our misery.’