The Merry Merry Lark Was Up And Singing, And The Hare Was Out And Feeding On The Lea; And The Merry Merry Bells Below Were Ringing, When My Child'S Laugh Rang Through Me. Now The Hare Is Snared And Dead Beside The Snow-Yard, And The Lark Beside The Dreary Winter Sea; And The Baby In His Cradle In The Churchyard Sleeps Sound Till The Bell Brings Me. Eversley, 1848.