I’d hold thee by the hand and lead thee on;
But I should fail, before three days were done;
Yes, thou shouldst leave me soon behind, and I—
Where I was born, my son, I wish to die.
Hear thy poor mother’s last advice, and take
The warning, if thou wouldst be blest of Heaven;
The poor man’s only wealth is what is given.
Ask of the rich; he gives for Jesu’s sake.
Thy father said so too;
Be thou more fortunate, my boy; adieu!