Page:Crazy Jane (1).pdf/3

 3 From that hour has reason never Held her empire o’er my brain, Henry fled, with him for ever Fled the wits of Crazy Jane.

Now forlorn and broken-hearted, And with frenzied thoughts beset On that spot where last we parted, On that spot where first we met, Still I sing my love-lorn ditty, Still I slowly pace the plain, While each passer by, in pity, Cries, God help thee, Crazy Jane.

Ere around the huge oak, that o’ershadows yon mill The fond ivy had dar’d to entwine; Ere the church was a ruin, that nods on the hill, Or a rook built its nest on the pine. Could I trace back the time to a far distant date, Since my forefather’s toil’d in this field; And the farm I now hold on your honour’s estate, Is the same that my grandfather toil’d.

Ho, dying, bequeath'd to his son a good name.