Walking home late from midsummer fair
A drunken man stumbled alone
A bitter wind blew through the dirt in his hair
And the branches were rattling like bones like bones
The branches were rattling like bones
Suddenly a pack of glowing black dogs
Came bounding toward him from the woods
Riding behind was a richly dressed huntsman
His saddle weighed down with fine goods fine goods
His saddle weighed down with fine goods
“Oh huntsman please share your spoils with me.”
The drunkard did say with a grin
A thing wrapped in white the huntsman threw down
Then galloped away once again again
He galloped away once again
Inside he found his poor infant child
So blue and so cold to the touch
Then it did twist and fall to the ground
Then shriveled and turned into dust to dust
It shriveled and turned into dust
He hurried on home to see his old wife
Who waited for him at the door
Tears filled her eyes and she shrieked in the night
“Our child is with us no more no more
Our child is with us no more.”
