Walking home late from midsummer fair A drunken man stumbled alone A bitter wind blew through the dirt in his hair And the branches were rattling like bones like bones The branches were rattling like bones
Suddenly a pack of glowing black dogs Came bounding toward him from the woods Riding behind was a richly dressed huntsman His saddle weighed down with fine goods fine goods His saddle weighed down with fine goods
“Oh huntsman please share your spoils with me.” The drunkard did say with a grin A thing wrapped in white the huntsman threw down Then galloped away once again again He galloped away once again
Inside he found his poor infant child So blue and so cold to the touch Then it did twist and fall to the ground Then shriveled and turned into dust to dust It shriveled and turned into dust
He hurried on home to see his old wife Who waited for him at the door Tears filled her eyes and she shrieked in the night “Our child is with us no more no more Our child is with us no more.”