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“Now wherefore thus, by day and night, “ In rain, in tempest, and in snow “ Thus to the dreary mountain-top “ Does this poor woman go? “ And why sits she beside the thorn " When the blue day-light's in the sky, “ Or when the whirlwind's on the hilt, -“ Or frosty air is keen and still, * And wherefore does she cry “Oh wherefore? wherefore ? tell me why “Does she repeat that doleful cry?"
I cannot tell ; I wish I could;
The pond—and thorn, so old and grey,
“ But wherefore to the mountain-top, “ Can this unhappy woman go, • Whatever star is in the skies, “ Whatever wind may blow?" Nay rack your brain— 'tis all in vain, I'll tell you every thing I know; But to the thorn and to the pond Which is a little step beyond, I wish that you would go : Perhaps when you are at the place You something of her tale may trace.
XI. I'll give you the best help I can: Before you up the mountain go, Up to the dreary mountain-top, I'll tell you all I know. 'Tis now some two and twenty years, Since she (her name is Martha Ray) Gave with a maiden's true good will Her company to Stephen Hill; And she was blithe and gay, And she was happy, happy still Whene'er she thought of Stephen Hill.
And they had fix'd the wedding-day,
Unthinking Stephen went-
They say, full six months after this,
XIV. Sad case for such a brain to hold Communion with a stirring child ! Sad case, as you may think, for one Who had a brain so wild ! Last Christmas when we talked of this, Old Farmer Simpson did maintain, That in her wornb the infant wrought About its mother's heart, and brought Her senses back again : And when at last her time drew near, Her looks were calma, her senses clear.
No more I know, I wish I did,
child There's none that ever knew : And if a child was born or no,