Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 1, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/197

145 The MAD MOTHER.

Her eyes are wild, her head is bare,

The sun has burnt her coal-black hair,

Her eye-brows have a rusty stain,

And she came far from over the main.

She has a baby on her arm,

Or else she were alone;

And underneath the hay-stack warm,

And on the green-wood stone,

She talked and sung the woods among;

And it was in the English tongue.