In his arms he lifted her as I now state;
Oh do not take me, my mother wants me,
I must go home again, good sir, she cried;
But on this earth she never saw thee,
In that hop-garden, there, poor child, she died.
When the deed was done, and that little darling,
Her soul to God her Maker it had flown,
She cannot return at her mother’s calling,
He mutilated her it is well known;
Her heart-broken parents in anguish weeping,