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Across the waters I am come,And I have left a Babe at home:A long, long way of land and sea!Come to me—I'm no enemy:I am the same who at thy sideSate yesterday, and made a nestFor thee, sweet Baby!—thou hast tried,Thou know'st, the pillow of my breast:Good, good art thou; alas! to meFar more than I can be to thee.
Here little Darling dost thou lie;An Infant Thou, a Mother I!Mine wilt thou be, thou hast no fears;Mine art thou—spite of these my tears.Alas! before I left the spot,My Baby and its dwelling-place;The Nurse said to me, "Tears should notBe shed upon an Infant's face,It was unlucky"—no, no, no;No truth is in them who say so!
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