I Wish My Baby Was Born

I wish, I wish my baby was born

And sitting on its papa's knee

And me, poor girl

And me, poor girl, were dead and gone

And the green grass growing o'er my feet

I ain't ahead, nor never will be

Till the sweet apple grows

On a sour apple tree

But still I hope, But stil I hope the time will come

When you and I shall be as one

I wish, I wish my love had died

And sent his soul to wander free

Then we might meet where ravens fly

Let our poor body rest in peace

The owl, the owl

Is a lonely bird

It chills my heart

With dread and terror

That someone's blood

There on his wing

That someone's blood

There on his feather.