Part Four In Which the Stream Winds Through a Sullen Marsh and Becomes a Brook
Alas for this unlucky womb!
Alas the breasts that suckled thee!
I would ha’ laid thee in thy tomb
Or e’er that witch had wived with thee!
Alas my son that grew so strong!
Alas those hands I stretched to th’ bow!
Or e’er thou heardst that wanton’s song,
I’d shot thee long ago and long,
Through the black heart that’s shamed me so!
Sir Hugh and the Mermaiden.