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