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And Susan's growing worse and worse,
The clock is on the stroke of one;
But neither Doctor nor his Guide Appear along the moonlight road; There's neither horse nor man abroad, And Betty's still at Susan's side.
And Susan she begins to fear
She prefaced half a hint of this
I must be gone, I must away,
“Oh God forbid !" poor Susan cries.
“ What can I do?” says Betty, going, “ What can I do to ease your pain ? Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay ; I fear you 're in a dreadful way, But I shall soon be back again."
“ Nay, Betty, go! good Betty, go! There's nothing that can ease my pain.” Then off she hies, but with a prayer That God poor Susan's life would spare, Till she comes back again.
So, through the moonlight lane she goes,
And all that to herself she talked,
Would surely be a tedious tale.
In high and low, above, below,
She's past the bridge that's in the dale,
And now she's high upon the down,
« Oh saints ! what is become of him?
Or him that wicked Pony's carried To the dark cave, the goblin's hall; Or in the castle he's pursuing, Among the ghosts his own undoing ; Or playing with the waterfall.”
old Susan then she railed, While to the town she posts away ; “ If Susan had not been so ill,
Alas! I should have had him still.
Poor Betty! in this sad distemper,