Classic Poem

Squire Curtis had a cruel mouth,
Though honey was on his tongue:
Squire Curtis woo'd and wedded a wife,
And she was fair and young.

But he said, " She cannot love me;
She watches me early and late;
She is mild and good and cold of mood; " —
And his liking turn'd to hate.

One Autumn evening they rode through the woods,
Far and far away;
" The dusk is drawing round, " she said,
" I fear we have gone astray. "

He spoke no word, but lighted down,
And tied his horse to a tree;
Out of the pillion he lifted her;
" 'Tis a lonely place, " said she.

Down a forest-alley he walk'd,
And she walk'd by his side;
" Would Heav'n we were at home! " she said,
" These woods are dark and wide! "

He spake no word, but still walk'd on;
The branches shut out the sky;
In the darkest place he turn'd him round —
" 'Tis here that you must die. "

Once she shriek'd and never again;
He stabb'd her with his knife;
Once, twice, thrice, and every blow
Enough to take a life.

A grave was ready; he laid her in;
He fill'd it up with care;
Under the brambles and fallen leaves
Small sign of a grave was there.

He rode for an hour at a steady pace,
Till unto his house came he;
On face or clothing, on foot or hand,
No stain that eye could see.

He boldly call'd to his serving-man,
As he lighted at the door:
" Your Mistress is gone on a sudden Journey, —
May stay for a month or more.

" In two days I shall follow her;
Let her waiting-woman know. "
" Sir, " said the serving-man, " My Lady
Came-in an hour ago. "

Squire Curtis sat him down in a chair.
And moved neither hand nor head.
In there came the waiting-woman,
" Alas the day! " she said.

" Alas! good Sir, " says the waiting-woman,
" What aileth my Mistress dear,
That she sits alone without sign or word?
There is something wrong, I fear!

" Her face was white as any corpse
As up the stairs she pass'd;
She never turn'd, she never spoke;
And the chamber-door is fast.

" She's waiting for you. " " A lie! " he shouts,
And up to his feet doth start;
" My wife is buried in Brimley Holt,
With three wounds in her heart. "

They search'd the forest by lantern light,
They search'd by dawn of day;
At noon they found the bramble-brake
And the pit where her body lay.

They carried the murder'd woman home,
Slow walking side by side.
Squire Curtis he swung upon gallows-tree,
But confess'd before he died.