THE ITINERANT SINGING GIRL
FROM THE DANISH.
FFATHERLESS and motherless, no brothers have I,And all my little sisters in the cold grave lie;Wasted with hunger I saw them falling dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
FFATHERLESS and motherless, no brothers have I,And all my little sisters in the cold grave lie;Wasted with hunger I saw them falling dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
FFATHERLESS and motherless, no brothers have I,And all my little sisters in the cold grave lie;Wasted with hunger I saw them falling dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
F
FATHERLESS and motherless, no brothers have I,And all my little sisters in the cold grave lie;Wasted with hunger I saw them falling dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Friendless and loverless, I wander to and fro,Singing while my faint heart is breaking fast with woe,Smiling in my sorrow, and singing for my bread—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Friendless and loverless, I wander to and fro,Singing while my faint heart is breaking fast with woe,Smiling in my sorrow, and singing for my bread—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Friendless and loverless, I wander to and fro,Singing while my faint heart is breaking fast with woe,Smiling in my sorrow, and singing for my bread—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Friendless and loverless, I wander to and fro,Singing while my faint heart is breaking fast with woe,Smiling in my sorrow, and singing for my bread—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Harp clang and merry song by stranger door and board,None ask wherefore tremble my pale lips at each word;None care why the colour from my wan cheek has fled—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Harp clang and merry song by stranger door and board,None ask wherefore tremble my pale lips at each word;None care why the colour from my wan cheek has fled—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Harp clang and merry song by stranger door and board,None ask wherefore tremble my pale lips at each word;None care why the colour from my wan cheek has fled—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Harp clang and merry song by stranger door and board,None ask wherefore tremble my pale lips at each word;None care why the colour from my wan cheek has fled—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Smiling and singing still, tho' hunger, want, and woe,Freeze the young life-current in my veins as I go;Begging for my living, yet wishing I were dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Smiling and singing still, tho' hunger, want, and woe,Freeze the young life-current in my veins as I go;Begging for my living, yet wishing I were dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Smiling and singing still, tho' hunger, want, and woe,Freeze the young life-current in my veins as I go;Begging for my living, yet wishing I were dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Smiling and singing still, tho' hunger, want, and woe,Freeze the young life-current in my veins as I go;Begging for my living, yet wishing I were dead—Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.