LONDON CHURCHYARD
As I walked through London
To ease my care,
I snuffed amid the houses
A greener air;
And behind iron railings
I saw branches wave,
Tossing their wild arms
Over, O! many a grave.
Such a sight as this
Pleased me very well.
I peered through the railings
That had a rusty smell—
All of a sudden
I heard a cry;
And saw a dark something
Crouched a new stone near-by.
It seemed lorn and witless
As sea-weed on a beach;
But it lamented
With a woman’s speech.
‘Woe’s me, my lover!
Cold-hearted you are grown.
The breast where I laid my head
Lies beneath a stone.
‘I thought I held you fast
My kind arms between,
But now you are gone from me
As if you’d never been.
‘Falsely have you dealt with me,
Falsely have you beguiled.
Dead and buried with you
Lies my child.’
Piteously, piteously,
Thus did she rave,
And wrung her hands,
And scratched on the grave.