The babe no more will cross thy path below,
Nephew of Baron Reginald, I know
Thy pale face now, and guess the reason why
Thou fear'st to lose thy stolen property.'
Just then 'twixt clouds a straggling beam revealed
The corner where the infant lay concealed.
He raised it up, then raved with anger wild,
To see 'twas dead, whilst I with pleasure smiled,
And said that I, yes I, had slain the child.
'O wretch!' he cried, 'the gallows is too good