Collected by Joe Moore For M. C. Parler
Sung by Mr. D. L. (Lon) Moore Fayetteville, Arkansas January 3, 1965
Reel 380 Item 10
Twas a cold winter night and the Winds blew across the wild moor,
When Mary came wandering home with her child,
Till she came to her own father's door.
"Saying, father, oh do let me in,
Take pity on me I implore,
For this child in my arms it will perish and die From the winds that blow cross the wild moor."
But her father was deaf to her cry,
Not a sound of her voice reached his ear,
Though the watch dogs did howl and the village bells tolled, And the winds blew across the wild moor.
Now what must that father have felt When he went to the door in the morn,
And found Mary dead and the child Fondly clasped in its dead mother's arms.
The father in grief passed away,
And the child to the grave soon was borne,
And there's no one lives there till this day,
And that cottage to ruin has gone.
"The villagers point out the spot,
Where the willow weeps over the door,
Saying, there Mary perished and died
From the winds that blew across the wild moor."
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