O cruel was my father
That shut the door on me.
And cruel was my mother
That such a thing could see.
And cruel is the wintry wind
That chills my heart with cold.
But crueler than all, the lad,
That left my love for gold.
Hush, hush, my lovely Baby,
And warm thee in my breast.
Ah! Little thinks thy father
How sadly we're distrest,
For cruel as he is,
Did he know but how we fare,
He'd shield me in his arms
From this bitter piercing air.

Cold, cold, my dearest jewel!
Thy little life is gone!
O let my tears receive thee,
So warm that trickle down!
My tears that gush so warm,
Oh, they freeze before they fall,
Ah, wretched, wretched mother
Thou art now bereft of all!
Then down she sunk despairing
Upon the drifted snow,
And, wrung with killing anguish,
Lamented loud her woe.
She kiss'd her baby's pale lips
And laid by her side;
Then cast her eyes to heaven,
Then bow'd her head, and died.