| |
| I WONDER whether the girls are mad, | |
| And I wonder whether they mean to kill, | |
| And I wonder if William Bond will die, | |
| For assuredly he is very ill. | |
| |
| He went to church in a May morning, | 5 |
| Attended by Fairies, one, two, and three; | |
| But the Angels of Providence drove them away, | |
| And he return’d home in misery. | |
| |
| He went not out to the field nor fold, | |
| He went not out to the village nor town, | 10 |
| But he came home in a black, black cloud, | |
| And took to his bed, and there lay down. | |
| |
| And an Angel of Providence at his feet, | |
| And an Angel of Providence at his head, | |
| And in the midst a black, black cloud, | 15 |
| And in the midst the sick man on his bed. | |
| |
| And on his right hand was Mary Green, | |
| And on his left hand was his sister Jane, | |
| And their tears fell thro’ the black, black cloud | |
| To drive away the sick man’s pain. | 20 |
| |
| ‘O William, if thou dost another love, | |
| Dost another love better than poor Mary, | |
| Go and take that other to be thy wife, | |
| And Mary Green shall her servant be.’ | |
| |
| ‘Yes, Mary, I do another love, | 25 |
| Another I love far better than thee, | |
| And another I will have for my wife; | |
| Then what have I to do with thee? | |
| |
| ‘For thou art melancholy pale, | |
| And on thy head is the cold moon’s shine, | 30 |
| But she is ruddy and bright as day, | |
| And the sunbeams dazzle from her eyne.’ | |
| |
| Mary trembled and Mary chill’d, | |
| And Mary fell down on the right-hand floor, | |
| That William Bond and his sister Jane | 35 |
| Scarce could recover Mary more. | |
| |
| When Mary woke and found her laid | |
| On the right hand of her William dear, | |
| On the right hand of his loved bed, | |
| And saw her William Bond so near, | 40 |
| |
| The Fairies that fled from William Bond | |
| Dancèd around her shining head; | |
| They dancèd over the pillow white, | |
| And the Angels of Providence left the bed. | |
| |
| I thought 1 Love lived in the hot sunshine, | 45 |
| But O, he lives in the moony light! | |
| I thought to find Love in the heat of day, | |
| But sweet Love is the comforter of night. | |
| |
| Seek Love in the pity of others’ woe, | |
| In the gentle relief of another’s care, | 50 |
| In the darkness of night and the winter’s snow, | |
| In the naked and outcast, seek Love there! | |
