The Mother

The midwife nearly drowned my son,
   And beat him hard, before he'd give
That cry a mother longs to hear
   To prove her precious babe will live.

The Wife

I wish that she had drowned him quite,
   Or beat your precious babe to death;
Since he has grown so fierce and strong
   He'll beat me out of my last breath.

Your precious babe is now a man,
   But, mother, he's not worth the skin -
As husband, father, or a son -
   That he was made for living in.