Oh, the troubles to come to thee can ever I dare name?
To work in the day, and at night to walk the bedroom's length, 
On a seeming‑heavy baby to waste thy seeming‑waning strength,
And as the husband of thy wife to reach the light of fam
Now my voice is broke with weeping, and mine eyes red, as with sand,
And my spirit worn with sighing, and with sighing worn my breast ­
Ah, farewell, that thou art gone now to the dreaded obscure land
Where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary never res