The Nurse's Lament
The flower is withered on the stem,
The fruit hath fallen from the bough.
None knows nor thinks of them.
There's no child in the house now.
The bird that sang sings not here.
Where is the bonny lark?
When shall I behold my dear?
The fire is out, the house dark.
The fruit hath fallen from the bough.
None knows nor thinks of them.
There's no child in the house now.
The bird that sang sings not here.
Where is the bonny lark?
When shall I behold my dear?
The fire is out, the house dark.
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