Stranger, don't be afraid I am in no shape to do you harm Though frightened you surely are by me Grant me a moments vended knee Dismiss this blood spray on my clothes I can assure you it's my own Though I lay bearing no cruel wound The witch on the ford surely sealed my doom
Oh god, I think I'm marked
Stranger lend me your ear Hear these last words of a dying man I testify a great misdeed My true loves heart I have aggrieved I broke off for another belle She conjured up vengeance she conjured up hell She put that webbed Witch there square in my path Soaking my clothes with the blood of the past
From round' yonder bend she came closing in The shadowy washer at the ford Jacklights were her eyes fortelling demise The flickering washer at the ford
Now I know I'm marked
Stranger could it be We've met someplace before? You grow resemblance to my lover Whom I've recent scorned "yes fallen friend We did aquaint once on a stroll Round' yonder bend Now let me wring those stains out From your soul"
She wailed as she washed She laughed at the cross I hastily patterned cross my chest My vestment she wrung And ruefully flung these burgundy bloodstains Cross' my breast From round' yonder bend she came closing in The shadowy washer At the ford Jacklights were her eyes fortelling demise The flickering washer at the ford
Compositor: Stephen Wayne Matthews (Argyle Goolsby) ECAD: Obra #11949244