Now, brother, faid the dying man,

Look to my children dear ;

Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friends elfe I have here:
To God and you I do commend
My children night and day;
But little while, be fure, we have
Within this world to stay.

You must be father and mother both,

And uncle, all in one;

God knows what will become of them,
When I am dead and gone.

With that befpake their mother dear,
O brother kind, quoth fhe,
You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or misery.

And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward;
If otherwise you feem to deal,
God will your deeds regard.

With lips as cold as any stone,

She kifs'd her children fmall:

God bless you both, my children dear.
With that the tears did fall.

These speeches then their brother spoke

To this fick couple there :

The keeping of your children dear,

Sweet fifter, do not fear ;

God

God never profper me nor mine,
Nor ought elfe that I have,
If I do wrong your children dear,
When you are laid in grave.

Their parents being dead and gone,
The children home he takes,

And brings them home unto his house,
And much of them he makes.
He had not kept thefe pretty babes
A twelvemonth and a day,
But, for their wealth, he did devife
To make them both away.

He bargain'd with two ruffians rude,
Which were of furious mood,

That they should take the children young,
And flay them in a wood.

He told his wife, and all he had,

He did the children fend,

To be brought up in fair London,
With one that was his friend.

Away then went these pretty babes,
Rejoicing at that tide,

Rejoicing with a merry mind,

They fhould on cock-horse ride.

They prate and prattle pleafantly,

As they rode on the way,

To thofe that should their butchers be,

And work their lives decay.

So

So that the pretty fpeech they had,

Made murderers hearts relent ;
And they that undertook the deed
Full fore they did repent.

Yet one of them, more hard of heart,
Did vow to do his charge,
Because the wretch that hired him
Had paid him very large.

The other would not agree thereto,
So here they fell at ftrife;
With one another they did fight,
About the childrens life:
And he that was of mildeft mood,
Did flay the other there,
Within an unfrequented wood;

While babes did quake for fear.

He took the children by the hand,
When tears flood in their eye,
And bade them come and go with him,
And look they did not cry:

And two long miles he led them on,
While they for food complain:

Stay here, quoth he, I'll bring you bread,
When I do come again.

These pretty babes, with hand in hand,
Went wandering up and down;
But never more they faw the man,
Approaching from the town:

Their

Their pretty lips, with black-berries,

Were all befmear'd and died,

And, when they faw the darkfome night,
They fate them down and cried.

Thus wandered these two pretty babes,
Till death did end their grief;
In one anothers arms they died,
As babes wanting relief:
No burial thefe pretty babes
Of any man receives,
Till Robin-red-breast, painfully,
Did cover them with leaves.

And now the heavy wrath of God

Upon their uncle fell;

Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house,
His confcience felt an hell:

His barns were fir'd, his goods confum'd,
His lands were barren made,

His cattle died within the field,
And nothing with him ftay'd.

And, in the voyage of Portugal,
Two of his fons did die ;

And, to conclude, himself was brought
To extreme mifery :

He pawn'd and mortgag'd all his land
Ere feven years came about.

And now at length this wicked act,

Did by this means come out :

The

The fellow that did take in hand

These children for to kill,
Was for a robbery judg'd to die,
As was Gods bleffed will;
Who did confess the very truth,
The which is here express'd;
Their uncle died while he, for debt,
In prifon long did reft.

All you that be executors made,
And overfeeers eke,

Of children that be fatherless,
And infants mild and meek,
Take you example by this thing,
And yield to each his right,
Left God, with fuch like mifery,
Your wicked minds requite.

BALLAD XIV.

GEORGE

A

BARN WE L.

LL youths of fair England,
That dwell both far and near,

Regard my story that I tell,

1

And to my fong give ear.

A London