A Song From 'The Player Queen'
My
mother
dandled
me
and
sang,
'How
young
it
is,
how
young!'
And
made
a
golden
cradle
That
on
a
willow
swung.
'He
went
away,'
my
mother
sang,
'When
I
was
brought
to
bed,'
And
all
the
while
her
needle
pulled
The
gold
and
silver
thread.
She
pulled
the
thread
and
bit
the
thread
And
made
a
golden
gown,
And
wept
because
she
had
dreamt
that
I
Was
born
to
wear
a
crown.
'When
she
was
got,'
my
mother
sang,
I
heard
a
sea-mew
cry,
And
saw
a
flake
of
the
yellow
foam
That
dropped
upon
my
thigh.'
How
therefore
could
she
help
but
braid
The
gold
into
my
hair,
And
dream
that
I
should
carry
The
golden
top
of
care?
