A little black thing among the snow,
 Crying ''weep! 'weep!' in notes of woe!
 'Where are thy father & mother? say?'
 'They are both gone up to the church to pray.

'Because I was happy upon the heath,
 'And smil'd among the winter's snow,
 'They cloth'd me in the clothes of death,
 'And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

'And because I am happy & dance & sing,
 'They think they have done me no injury,
 'And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King,
 'Who make up a heaven of our misery.'