Lyrics: Richard Wagner/Andrew Porter
Music: Richard Wagner
A whimpering babe,
born in these woods
Mime was kind
to the tiny mite;
feeding you well,
keeping you warm,
sheltering you safe
as my very self.
And as you grew older
I was your nurse;
when you were sleepy
I smoothed your bed.
I made you nice toys
and that shining horn,
toiling away,
trying to please:
my clever counsels
sharpened your wits;
I tried to make you
crafty and bright.
Staying at home
I slave and sweat,
while you go
wandering around.
I toil for your pleasure,
think only of you,
I wear myself out
a poor old dwarf!
Then you repay me
for all that I’ve done
with your furious scolding
and scorn and hate!