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A little black thing among the snow,

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

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"Where are thy father and mother? say?"

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"They are both gone up to the church to pray.

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Because I was happy upon the heath,

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And smil'd among the winter's snow,

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They clothed me in the clothes of death,

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And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

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And because I am happy and dance and sing,

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They think they have done me no injury,

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

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Who make up a heaven of our misery."