Collected by Mary C . Parler
Transcribed by James Lee
Sung by Booth Campbell
Reel 234, Item 6
Mary of the Wild Moor
I awoke one night when the winds blew high,
And blew coldly across the wild moor,
Twas then Mary came with her child,
All alone to her own father's door.
Crying Father, pray do let me in,
Take pity on me I am poor,
Or the child at my bosom will die,
From the winds that blow cross the wild moor.
But her father was deaf to her cries,
Not a voice not a sound reached the door,
But the watchdog barked and
The winds blew coldly across the wild moor.
Now what must a father have felt,
When he went to the door in the morn;
There he 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 born,
And there's no one lives there till this day,
The cottage to ruin has gone.
The villagers point to the spot,
Where the willow weeps over the door,
Saying there Mary perished and died,
From the winds that blow crost the wild moor.
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