Poor Babes In The Woods

December 17, 2008 | My Jottings

My mother was a very nurturing and loving woman, and she was especially good with babies. She was also gifted musically, and often all these qualities blended together. Even toward the end of her life, Mom could take a fussy baby that no one else could calm, wrap him just right, put him over her shoulder while singing and slowly rocking, and in no time he would be asleep. She just had the knack.

These are the words to the lullaby my mother sang to me when I was very young. I distinctly remember her rocking me and softly singing this song in my ear, gently nuzzling me and patting my back…

Poor Babes In The Woods

My dear, do you know
How a long time ago
Two poor little children
Whose names I don’t know

Were stolen away
On a bright summer’s day
And left in the woods
I heard people say

And when it was night
So sad was their plight
The sun it went down
And the moon gave no light

They sobbed and they sighed
And they bitterly cried
Poor Babes in the Woods!
Poor Babes in the Woods!

And when they were dead
The robins so red
Took strawberry leaves 
And over them spread

And all the day long                                                                                              They sang their poor song
Poor Babes in the Woods!
Poor Babes in the Woods!

 

I’m beginning to think this explains everything.