American Ballads and Songs

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'Twas on a cold winter's night
When the wind blew across the wild moor, That Mary came wandering home with her child,
Till she came to her own father's door. "0 father, dear father," she cried,
"Come down and open the door, Or the child in my arms will perish and die,
By the winds that blow 'cross the wild moor."
"0 why did I leave this dear cot,
Where once I was happy and free? But now I must roam without friends or home,
No one to take pity on me!" Her father was deaf to her cries,
Not a sound of her voice reached his ear; But the watch dog he howled and the village tolled,
And the winds blew across the wild moor.
O how must that old man have felt When he came to the door in the morn;
Poor Mary was dead, but her child was alive, Closely pressed in its dead mother's arms.

E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III