He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee
home!
A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou
roam?
A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee
yearn
Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have
been.

Thou knowest that twice a day I brought thee in
this can
Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever
ran;
And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with
dew,
I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and
new.

Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they
are now;
Then I'll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony in the
plough;

My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is
cold
Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy
fold.

[Illustration]