Classic Poem

1.

One night the wind it blew cold,
Blew bitter across the wild moor;
Young Mary she came with her child
Wand'ring home to her own father's door;
Crying, " Father, oh! pray let me in,
Take pity on me I implore!
Or the child at my bosom will die
From the winds that blow 'cross the wild moor.

2.

" Oh, why did I leave this fair cot
Where once I was happy and free;
Doomed to roam without friends or home —
Oh! Father, take pity on me. "
But her father was deaf to her cries,
Not a voice nor a sound reached the door;
But the watch-dog did bark, and winds
Blew bitter across the wild moor.

3.

Oh, how must her father have felt
When he came to the door in the morn!
There he found Mary dead, and the child
Fondly clasped to its dead mother's form.
How in frenzy he tore his grey hairs,
As on Mary he gazed at the door;
For that night she had perished and died
From the winds that blew 'cross the wild moor.

4.

The father in grief pined away,
The child to the grave was soon borne,
And no one lives there to this day
For the cottage to ruin has gone.
The villagers point out the spot
Where a willow droops over the door.
Saying, " There Mary perished and died
From the winds that blew 'cross the wild moor. "