It was on one cold winter night When the wind blew across the wild moor When Mary came wandering home with her child Til she came to her own fathers door Father, dear Father, she cried Come down and open the door Or the child in my arms will perish and die From the winds that blow across the wild moor. But her father was deaf to her cry Not a sound of her voice did he hear So the watch dogs did howl and the village bells tolled And the wind blew across the wild moor Oh, how the old man must have felt When he came to the door, the next morn And he found Mary dead, but the child still alive Closely grasping its dead mothers arms In grief the old man passed away And the child, to its mother, went soon And no one, they say, lives there to this day And the cottage, to ruin, has gone But the villagers point out the spot Where the willows grew over the door Saying there Mary died, once the gay village bride From the wind that blew across the wild moorYou might also like
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