A mother came, when stars were pailing,

Wailing round a lonely spring,

This she cried while tears were falling,

Calling on the fairy king:

"Why with spell my child caressing, 

Courting him with fairy joy,

Why destroy a mother's blessing? 

Wherefore steal my baby boy?

O'er the mountain. Thought the wild wood,

Where his childhood loved to play 

Where the flowers are freshly springing,

There I wander day by day. 

There I wander, growing fonder,

Of the child that made my joy,

On the echoes wildly calling,

To restore my fairy boy 

But in vain my plantive calling; 

Tears are falling all in vain; 

He now sports with fairy pleasure 

He's the treasure of their train.

Fare thee well, my child, forever;

In this world I've lost my joy,

But in the next we ne'er shall sever 

There I'll find my angel boy.