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The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
And Betty, half an hour ago,
And Betty's drooping at the heart, That happy time all past and gone, "How can it be he is so late? "The doctor he has made him wait, "Susan they'll both be here anon."
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,
"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."
"Good 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,
In high and low, above, below,
In great and small, in round and square,
In tree and tower was Johnny seen, In bush and brake, in black and green, 'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.
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? Perhaps he's climbed into an oak, "Where he will stay till he is dead; "Or sadly he has been misled, "And joined the wandering gypsey-folk.