Sung by: Mrs. Jim Hagwood
Recorded in Cave Creek, Batesville, AR, 7/16/53

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Dark and stormy were the night
When the wind blew across the wild moor;
Poor Mary come wandering home
As she stood at her own father's door.

"Oh, father, oh, father," she cried,
"Come down and open the door.
With a babe in my arm, will frozen and die
In a wind that blew 'cross the wild moor."

The old man were deaf to her cry,
Not a sound of her voice reached his ear.
The watchdog, he howled, and the village bell tolled,
In the wind that blew 'cross the wild moor.

How sad the old man must have felt
When he opened the door in the morn,
For Mary was dead, but the babe still alive
Closely pressed in his dead mother's arms.

How . . . he tore his gray hair,
While tears down his cheeks they did flow,
Saying, "Here poor Mary, a gay village bride,
     who frozen and died,
Here laying at her own father's door."

The old man, he soon pined away,
And the baby to his mother went soon.
They say now none has lived 'til this day,
And the cottage to its ruin has gone.

They pass by, they point out the spot
While the willow droop near o'er the door,
Saying, "Here, poor Mary, a gay village bride,
     who frozen and died
Here laying at her own father's door."

(Comment by Mrs. Hagwood: "Now, I couldn't keep my voice clear, 'cause I get hoarse.")

Also found in Randolph, Vol. I, #72, "The Wild Moor"; Brown, Vol. II, #78, "Mary of the Wild Moor"; Belden, p. 207, "Mary of the Wild Moor."

All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
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