There is an old tale About a boy An only son Who fell in love with a lass.
‘You don’t love me, You never did,’ said she to him. `But if you do, go then And fetch me your mother’s heart.’
Downcast and distraught The boy walked off And after shedding copious tears Came back to his love.
The girl was angry When she saw him thus And said, ‘Don’t you dare come back again Without your mother’s heart.’
The boy went and killed A mountain roe deer And offered its heart To the one he adored.
But again she was angry And said, `Get out of my sight. I told you what I want Is your mother’s heart.'
The boy went and killed His mother, and as he ran With her heart in his hand He slipped and fell.
`My dear child, My poor child,' Cried the mother’s heart, ‘Did you hurt yourself?’