Classic Poem

Father, O father, what have you done
With Ruddy Kervil, the Warden's son?
—He has gone forth under the sky
To watch the young grey goshawks fly.

O father, father, what have you done
With the Game Warden's only son?
—He has gone forth to fish for me
Where the bitter marsh runs black to the sea.

O father, my father, what have you done
With a grey-faced woman's only son?
—He has gone forth to hunt, alone,
The deer that drink by Yarbury Stone.

My father, my father, what have you done
With my own lover, the Warden's son?
—By Yarvel Mere is a track of red. . . .
And the crows are gathering overhead.