As a lady once told me I should be
If I lived on honest life!
“Then I wondered if we were to die that night,
If we should be angels fair!
But, mother, what makes your cheeks so white,
Why, why do you shiver and stare?
“Oh, mother, mother! you have often said
You’d kill me yet in some lonely place
If I did not steal—and did not shed
More tear-streams down my face!