An Exercise in Folk Song

He’s left you here, my dear my dear, tell me why you wait
He’s left you here, with no one near, and the hour is growing late.
Your heart, poor dear, bares a sadness so heavy and so slow
You will not feel its end until to the Summer Fields you go.

The raven to the square is flying,
And your love he is a-sighing.
The raven to the square is flying,  
And my dear my dear we’re all a-dying.

The sun moves ‘round, sister moon behind, and stars bright and dim
They whisper, dear, to see you here, and pretend they know your sin.
But here you are, waiting at the door, knowing he’ll return.
No one sees and no one hears the question that in your chest burns.  

The raven to the square is flying,
And your love he is a-sighing.
The raven to the square is flying,  
And my dear my dear we’re all a-dying.

The candle’s out, the shutters closed, the locks all strong and barred,
You hope he sees the path to you in tears and blood you’ve carved.
He’s left you here, my dear my dear, and here you shall remain,
Because he’s coming soon and you only hope he remembers your name.  

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *