THE father's name ye ne'er shall be toldOf my darling unborn life;"Shame, shame," ye cry, "on the strumpet bold!"Yet I'm an honest wife.
To whom I'm wedded, ye ne'er shall be told,Yet he's both loving and fair;He wears on his neck a chain of gold,And a hat of straw doth he wear.
If scorn 'tis vain to seek to repel,On me let the scorn be thrown.
I know him well, and he knows me well,And to God, too, all is known.
Sir Parson and Sir Bailiff, again,I pray you, leave me in peace!
My child it is, my child 'twill remain,So let your questionings cease!
1815.*
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