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Mary on the Wild Moor 'Twas all on a cold winter's night When the winds blew across the wild moor, That Mary came wand'ring along with her child, Till she came to her own father's door. "O why did I leave this dear spot, Where once I was happy and free? And now doomed to roam without friends or a home, And none to take pity on me? "O father, dear father," she cried, "Do come downstairs and open the door! For the child in my arms will perish and die From the winds that blow 'cross the wild moor." But the old man was deaf to her cries, Not a sound of her voice did he hear, But the watchdog did howl and tAe village bell tolled And the winds blew across the wild moor. O how must the old man have felt When he came to the door the next morn And found Mary dead, but the child was alive, Closely clasped in its dead mother's arms. With anguish he tore his gray hair, While the tears down his cheeks they did roll Saying, "There Mary died, once the gay village bride, From the winds that blew 'cross the wild moor." The old man with grief pined away, And the child to its mother went soon; There's no one, they say, has lived there to this day, And the cottage to ruin has gone. The villagers point out the spot, Where the willows droop over the door, Saying, "There Mary died, once the gay village bride, From the winds that blew 'cross the wild moor." From Folk-Songs of the South, Cox DT #503 Laws P21 RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!