Down the lane by Annie’s cottage chanced a gentleman to roam,
He caught a glimpse of Annie in her bright and happy home;
Thrice he came and saw her sitting by the window with her child.
And he nodded to the baby and the baby laughed and smiled.
So at last it grew to know him (Little Joe was nearly four),
He would call the pretty “gemplum” as he passed the open door;
And one day he ran and caught him and in child’s play pulled him in,
And the baby Joe had prayed for brought about the mother’s sin.
’Twas the same old wretched story that for ages bards have sung,
’Twas a woman, weak and wanton, and a villain’s tempting tongue;