I Saw One Hanging On A Tree, And O His Face Was Sad To See,-- Misery, Misery Me! There Were Berries Red Upon His Head, And In His Hands, And On His Feet, But When I Tried To Pick And Eat, They Were His Blood, And He Was Dead;-- Misery, Misery Me! It Broke My Heart To See Him There, So Lone And Sad In His Despair; The Nails Of Woe Were Through His Hands, And Through His Feet,--Ah, Misery Me! With Beak And Claws I Did My Best To Loose The Nails And Set Him Free, But They Were All Too Strong For Me;-- Misery, Misery Me! I Picked And Pulled, And Did My Best, And His Red Blood Stained All My Breast; I Bit The Nails, I Pecked The Thorn, O, Never Saw I Thorn So Worn; But Yet I Could Not Get Him Free;-- Misery, Misery Me! And Never Since Have I Feared Man, But Ever I Seek Him When I Can, And Let Him See The Wish In Me To Ease Him Of His Misery.