Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/68



morning in May, a fair maiden so gay,
 * Came tripping it over the moor,

And if truth, sirs, I tell, this same charming young belle,
 * Had been there several mornings before.

The heather was blooming—that might be the cause,
 * Wild strawberries were ripe to the hand,

Whilst the views round about were right lovely, no doubt,
 * And might induce her to pause,
 * And might induce her to pause.

Yet she stoops not to gather the sweet blooming heather,
 * Nor strawberries, ripe though they be,

Nor for beautiful sight turns to left or to right,
 * Till she reaches the old hawthorn tree.

And, see in the distance, a youth wends his way
 * To that very identical spot!

Now, it really seems strange that two persons should range
 * So soon on the moor—does it not?
 * So soon on the moor—does it not?

The murder is out, there'll be anger and ire
 * (Mark my words) very soon in that quarter,

When the Squire comes to know that the keeper*s son, Joe,
 * Is presumptuously courting his daughter.

Love! but for thee this fair maiden would be
 * In bed, I've no doubt, and a sleeper;

But by Love driven mad, see the foresight she had,
 * To provide herself thus with a keeper!
 * To provide herself thus with a keeper!