The Changeling
By night they came and from my bed
They stole my babe, and left behind
A thing I hate, a thing I dread—
A changeling who is old and blind;
He’s moaning all the night and day
For those who took my babe away.
My little babe was sweet and fair,
He crooned to sleep upon my breast—
But O the burden I must bear!
This drinks all day and will not rest—
My little babe had hair so light—
And his is growing dark as night.
Yon evil day when I would leave
My little babe the stook behind!—
The fairies coming home at eve
Upon an eddy of the wind,
Would cast their eyes with envy deep
Upon my heart’s-love in his sleep.
What holy woman will ye find
To weave a spell and work a charm?
A holy woman, pure and kind,
Who’ll keep my little babe from harm—
Who’ll make the evil changeling flee,
And bring my sweet one back to me?