XIV. Sad case for such a brain to hold Communion with a stirring child! Who had a brain so wild! Last Christmas when we talked of this, And when at last her time drew near, Her looks were calm, her senses clear. XV. No more I know, I wish I did, And I would tell it all to you; For what became of this poor child There's none that ever knew: And if a child was born or no, There's no one that could ever tell; There's no one knows, as I have said; But some remember well, That Martha Ray about this time Would up the mountain often climb. XVI. And all that winter, when at night The wind blew from the mountain-peak, 'Twas worth your while, though in the dark, The church-yard path to seek : For many a time and oft were heard Cries coming from the mountain-head: Some plainly living voices were ; And others, I've heard many swear, I cannot think, whate'er they say, They had to do with Martha Ray. XVII. But that she goes to this old Thorn, The Thorn which I've described to you, And there sits in a scarlet cloak, I will be sworn is true. For one day with my telescope, XVIII. 'Twas mist and rain, and storm and rain, No screen, no fence could I discover, And then the wind! in faith, it was A wind full ten times over. looked around, I thought I saw A jutting crag, and off I ran, The shelter of the crag to gain, And, as I am a man, Instead of jutting crag, I found XIX. I did not speak-I saw her face, I turned about and heard her cry, And there she sits, until the moon Through half the clear blue sky will go ; And, when the little breezes make The waters of the Pond to shake, As all the country know, She shudders, and you hear her cry, "Oh misery! oh misery!" XX. "But what's the Thorn? and what's the Pond? And what's the Hill of moss to her ? And what's the creeping breeze that comes The little Pond to stir ?" I cannot tell; but some will say She hanged her baby on the tree; But all and each agree, The little babe was buried there, Beneath that Hill of moss so fair. XXI. I've heard, the moss is spotted red With drops of that poor infant's blood: But kill a new-born infant thus I do not think she could. Some say, if to the Pond you go, |