Crying, my little one, footsore and weary?
 Fall asleep, pretty one, warm on my shoulder:
I must tramp on through the winter night dreary,
 While the snow falls on me colder and colder.
 
You are my one, and I have not another;
 Sleep soft, my darling, my trouble and treasure;
Sleep warm and soft in the arms of your mother,
 Dreaming of pretty things, dreaming of pleasure.

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