Little child, weary wanderer, leaving home to go forth yonder. Sat alone beneath oak tree, to sleep away his misery. A mile from his cottage home, this little child left to roam, in the woods so dark and damp; this little child would make his camp. While asleep, he heard asunder; flash of lights -- arose of thunder. Upon his face a dreadful frown, pouring rain now crashing down. He watched a tragic play unfold, that left this child in the cold. The tent he pitched -- swept away, by the shifting mud and clay. Now the child dripping wet, sat alone the night and wept.