As I Watch the Barley Grow

I sing of you, my darling baby,
I sing of you a song.
Of how I saw you by the river,
And of how I saw you drown.

You had two grains of golden barley,
And you kept them in your hand.
At the break of morning early,
Two shoots stood in the sand.

I will take the golden barley,
The grain with which to sow.
I will think of my darling baby,
As I watch the barley grow.

I will reap the fields tomorrow,
Half to plant and half to mill.
And I'll have bread for to eat my sorrow,
When I think of the river still.