Lullaby

What shall I sing you,
my pretty maid?
the sun is gone down
and the woods are in shade,
the wind is afoot
and the river runs deep,
but my pretty maid
she won't go to sleep.

When I was a child
I lived far away,
my brothers and sisters
were with me all day;
through valleys and meadows
we followed our sheep
(and my pretty maid
she won't go to sleep).

Ah, those were the day
when the meadows were gold,
when no one is ailing
and no one was old.
Yet now I must sorrow
and now I must weep,
for my pretty maid
she won't go to sleep!