A rann I made within my heart
To the rider, to the high king,
A rann I made to my love,
To the king of kings, ancient death.

Brighter to me than light of day
The dark of thy house, though black clay;
Sweeter to me than the music of trumpets
The quiet of thy house and its eternal silence.

I went to Ed Haley's the day it was bright
I met with a woman I loved at first sight.
I asked her some questions about her past life,
She told me she was single, but had been a wife.

In deep conversation I studied her mind,
She had come down to Brushy to wait on the blind;
The labor was hard and the wages was small,
I soon saw she did not like Horse Branch at all.

I dream of this woman, she's stolen my heart;
Sad disappointments has kept us apart.
I'm troubled and worried, I'm tired of this place,
It seems like a year since I looked on her face.

I live and love as others do
But seldom have the face to woo
A rosy cheek a snowy breast
Doth steal away my tranquil rest
A silent pain my heart doth fill
It pants within but does not kill
Love's a tormenting thing to seek
Withering a heart it cannot break

That face is fair so very fair
Brighter her eyes than others are
And to my eyes those locks so curled
More beautiful than all the world
That form for ever haunteth me
Nought like to it I ever see
Those swelling breasts like billows rise
To fascinate my wondering eyes

Jane why dont ye love Jane
In your own sweet arms love come and enfold me
For your face like the Rose is the sweetest that glows
It does my heart good to behold thee
Love—Love Jinney dear
Tis the spring o the year
O let me kiss thy sweet face and enfold thee
Let me lean on thy breast
And be lov'd into rest
For it does my soul good to behold thee
Jane—Jane—why dont ye love Jane
Little lambs love their Mithers and lay by their side
Twa double white Lilies they're full o will nill is
Let them be natures and dress like a bride
Love—Love in true love

I love to hear the uproar of the wind
Amidst the forrest foliage hoarsely rave
But like all joys it leaves a pain behind
As falling leaves grow summons for the grave

How sweet does the hour seem When the sun's gone bed
And gay clouds soft as dreams O'er the south west spread
When the bee sleeps till morn Where thistles adorn
The lane banks by the hedges All summered wi dew
Dragon flies on the sedges
But where love are you.

Our choice hour of meeting Youve let it go by
Me the woodbine is greeting But lonely am I
The bees on the thistle Where grass crickets whistle
And lady birds creeping Regardless o' dew
With nature they're keeping
But where love are you.

O Caradora bonny maid
I'll never have my will o thee
To speak thy name I'm half afraid
And why I have no eyes to see
I've felt thy love and bore the blame
Thy two rich eyes were life to me
But never can I see the shame
Or feel it sin in loving thee.

Thy big bright eye thy happy smile
Is heaven and I know the place
No meaner joy can me beguile
While I am gazeing on thy face
How sweet her ancles and her legs
Her lips were coral streaked with light
Her neck was white as ring doves eggs
More white recedeing out of sight.

I love the raving winds, the murky gloom
And I love the sea
When ocean billows burst in frothy hum
And where they silent be
I love the rough and smooth of nature's voice
The quiet, and the rude
For Nature never had unpleasant voice
But sweet as Solitude

I love the tumult in the forest trees
And wood winds to hear
In nature's soul of quiet sympathies
There—ther's nought to fear
Nothing creating pain or harm
And no noises rude
The loud tongued thunder is a lovely charm
A companion in solitude—

Jesus Christ my Leman sweet,
That diedest on the bitter tree,
With all my might I thee beseech
For thy deep Wounds two and three,
That as firmly may Thy love
In to mine heart fixèd be
As was the spear in to thine Heart
When thou sufferedst death for me.
My Jesus sweet who died on Rood,
For the love of me,—
And boughtest me with Thy Blood,
Have then Mercy upon me;
And should me hinder any thing
From my love of Thee,
Should it be dear it shall be loathed;
So take it away from me.

Come, Autumn, come again with sober bloom
And shed sweet fragrance on love's fair increase
Year upon year, from the faint far perfume
Of bridal rose till this glad day of peace.
Though some who smelt the rose
Are gone, and some of those
We love and wish were here, away,
Yet Autumn, let thy spirit consecrate the day.

When April smiles, the earth's broad bosom feels
The throb of life and sap that wakes her veins,
Delights therein alone; at April's heels
Sees not the following months and all their trains;
While these come all unguessed,